More thoughts on food

I began 2011 wanting to put a lighter note on things, this blog included. I have a tendency for drama but drama does not have to be entertainment free, or just a downer.

Which is why it's kind of baffling that I want to talk about food on this first try-at-lighthearted post.

But wait! You may remember this post, where I said that I loved food and the cooking of it. And I do. So how could talking about food be anything but a lighthearted subject? Well, loving something doesn't mean you're safe from having a fucked up relationship with it.

My problems with food (or rather, eating food) is less a body image problem and more a self worth problem. Sometimes I just don't find myself worthy of eating. Either I have not worked long enough, worked hard enough, written enough, what I have written isn't good enough, or maybe I have a set list of to-do things and I forbid myself from eating until some items on the list are crossed. Food is a reward I can keep from myself and I'm good at keeping myself from it. It also had the added bonus that I can SEE the effects of the punishment in me. Not eating makes me THIN (and in a sick way that is good so maybe there's also some body image issues in here as well).

I'm able to eat comfortably with friends as long as I have helped with the cooking. If I am told no help is needed with the cooking I will go a bit crazy, ask if there's anything I can bring for the meal and if the answer is no and I'm in a particularly insane day I will try to eat as little as possible (about enough to show I've liked the food but making sure everyone else has had more than me and always refusing seconds). The one exception to this is desserts, mainly because I love desserts but also because people usually expect me to like if not love the dessert.

Yes, people, as you can see, I have issues. Issues that I'm dealing with for a while now but that still can fuck me up good if I let them.

Take today for example: I met at 8 in the morning to have breakfast with a good friend at an ok restaurant. And then I had nothing to eat until like 20 minutes ago. Nothing. Why? Because before I ate I wanted to vacuum, clean the cats' litterbox, shower, and write. I was tired (slept only like 2 hours) but I didn't want to nap and so I ended up not doing most things on that list. So I didn't eat. And then half an hour ago I was like "Martin, this is nonsense, you cannot go to bed without eating something."

Which is untrue, as I have done it before.

But then I told myself that it was decidedly silly of me not to eat just because I hadn't achieved all I had set for today. Food is a necessity, not a reward. And I like cooking. No, I love cooking. And I cook and eat not because I deserve to have food but because I need to have food and not having food only makes it harder for me to meet the goals that make me deny myself the food in the first place.

I think I have failed epically at making this lighthearted, but I wanted to share this. Not because I want pity but because putting this in words and hitting the "Publish Post" button helps me be able to see this on a different light. Yes, I have a fucked up relationship with food, but food isn't what is damaging me, I am (ok, so maybe the bacon-cheese sandwich I just had wasn't the best friend my arteries hoped for, but healthy eating habits is something for another post altogether). Loving food means loving its nourishment and understanding that food gives you this nourishment so you can do with it whatever you need/want.

Thanks for reading.

The Gift of Food

I love food.

I don't necessarily mean the act of eating food, although that can be quite enjoyable as well. I mean food as a form of nourishment, as a ritual, as a creative outlet, and as way to show you care. Food as a symbol in movies and books interests me as well. And the act of cooking is like magic to me.

I love cooking.

And baking. For a while I felt that there did not exist a more sincere way to show my appreciation for someone than baking a cake for said person. For me, the act of making a cake was not only the mixing of certain ingredients in a certain way to achieve a desired result, but a way to give some of my own time to someone else.

I think it all comes back to the ideas of warm and nourishment. The point of gift giving is to give something the other person might find useful and/or enjoyable, taking into account the person's likes and dislikes. To give food as a gift may seem to go against the idea of a durable gift, but by eating your gift that person is receiving nourishment from what you give them. It stays with them. It goes with them.

I don't feel the same way about cooking and baking as I did when I began baking. I can make stuff for myself now, without having the thought of someone else to give to. I can let myself experiment and allow myself to make mistakes. But food retains its magic for me. It's a wondrous thing that you may take unchanged from nature or transformed through heat and it goes into you and allows you to live on.

And this is why I love food, and thinking about food. It's magic.