Is this strawberry purely happy? Or is there something else behind its smile?

This morning as I was running (or more accurately, as I was stumbling squelchily along in the extreme humidity), I was listening to a story on the Snap Judgment podcast. (By the way, if you don’t know Snap Judgment, stop reading this right now and go listen to some episodes. I’m serious. Go. Now.)  The story was about a song from the 1930s that was immensely popular, but was supposedly so unbearably sad that it was eventually banned on BBC Radio because of its links to cases of suicide. The song was called “Gloomy Sunday,” or, less formally, “The Hungarian Suicide Song.”

I should admit that I did not find the song unduly depressing, but I did find the idea intriguing. And it made me wonder: could a similar phenomenon be found in food? That is, could something you eat (independent of, say, your personal memories of that food) make you much happier or much sadder?

The internet is rife with lists and articles claiming to know the “Top Ten Foods That Will Make You Happier!!!!” I approached them with a great amount of skepticism, but was a little weirded out by how closely they mirrored my typical lunch choices. Suddenly, all of those tofu soups (relaxes the muscles) and avocado sandwiches (contains serotonin) made me feel like I might have a substance abuse problem. Incidentally, is this why I enjoy the company of my co-workers? Anyway, according to these lists, I am one spinach and walnut sandwich away from total bliss, so I decided to leave the cheering foods well enough alone and start looking for sad ones.

There was an Australian study a few years ago (and possibly more recent ones as well—I’m not exactly and expert here) that linked junk food to depression. Eating too much refined sugar, fried food and artificial sweetener can make you feel cranky, irritated, or possibly even anxious or depressed. It’s not that I don’t believe this is true (it seems kind of obvious that if you eat something that’s bad for you physically, it’s probably not great for you mentally, either), but it wasn’t exactly what I was looking for. After all, listen to the way Laszlo Marosi, a contemporary Hungarian conductor, described “Gloomy Sunday” on Snap Judgment: “You will forget all your pain, and you will be just sad, very sad. But it’s a beautiful sadness. You can cry and those tears will clear your mind. It’s beautiful. I love that.”

This description sounds kind of laughably Eastern European but also pretty relatable. So where are my exquisitely sad foods? A beer brewed with the tears of cloistered nuns? The final dewy peach to ripen on a tree right before a hurricane tears it out by its roots? For kicks, I typed “exquisitely sad foods” into Google, and the first six results weren’t about food at all, but instead about songs, so maybe I should just listen to the Bjork cover of “Gloomy Sunday” (yes, this really exists) while I drink my tea and call it a day. The seventh search result, though, was this guy, talking about a particularly happy/sad Cheverny Rouge. And oh, of course he’s from Brooklyn. I wouldn’t be surprised if he lives down the block. Excuse me now, while the two of us go have a nice, Hungarian-style cleansing cry.

Have your own suggestions for happy or sad foods? Hit us up in the comments section.