Have you ever seen the 2009 film Julie & Julia? It’s a dual biopic detailing Julia Child’s life before she published her first book, Mastering the Art of French Cooking, as well as blogger Julie Powell’s challenge in 2002 to cook all 524 recipes in the book in a period of one year, and blog about it.
There is a scene in the movie where Paul, Julia’s husband, asks her, “What is it you really like to do?” After a mere second of thought, she replies boldly, “eat!”
When Sandra and I watched it, she turned to me and said, “that’s you!”
It cannot be denied: eating good food is one of my favourite pastimes. It’s not about being fat-, carb-, or sodium-addicted. It’s not about shoving grease-drenched carbs and meat down my throat. The pleasure comes not from the sensation of filling my belly, but from the flavours intermingling in my mouth to create a phenomenal gestalt of taste.
Early in our relationship, Sandra commented that I make everything “sound delicious.” I assumed she meant the way I describe food, but she clarified that it’s the sound I make when eating. “It doesn’t matter what you’re eating, you make this sound that makes your food sound delicious, and then I want to eat it too.”
Sometimes I put food in my mouth and melt with enjoyment. Later, I get nostalgic. “Remember that restaurant?” I’ll say to Sandra. “That cream of wild mushroom soup we ate? Those crab cakes? The tenderloin, with that sauce on it? Remember?”
It’s not always the way it’s cooked either. Food just tastes great. I achieve a surprising level of enjoyment chewing on celery, and a ripe, unadulterated Niagara peach satisfies me in a way that no rich dinner at the fanciest of restaurants can.
I’m salivating just writing this.
I can’t imagine what life would be like without the ability to taste good food and that is why, today, I am thankful for the ability to taste.
Do you have an intimate relationship with food? Tell me about it in the Comments.