Anything Considered

“Tell me what you eat, and I will tell you what you are”

ANTHELME BRILLAT-SAVARIN (1755-1826)

Eating out the other day got me thinking about food. Not just thinking about the food I was eating, but about food. Necessities can be strange things. And for something so essential, I never cease to be amazed at how much food can be desired.

I do love food. Good food. But peculiarly enough, good food is the stuff of life that I never stuff myself with. How is it possible, for instance, to wolf down a perfectly cooked, perfectly tender cod fillet? Sure, there's food - the imaginary horses that the ravished yearn for - and there's food, where every bite is something wonderful to savour.

And on the flipside is bad food. Bad food is anathema to me. I can still vividly remember the taste of the meatballs I ate in army during a CNY steamboat. Dry, papery, with a horrid smell that foreshadows the retching that it must induce. That is the first time I remember involuntarily rejecting cooked food, and I will never put myself in a similar situation again.

Thankfully enough, I've had a fair share of positive experiences with food in good company. Good pasta, good meat. Good company redeems a mediocre meal. But that's a story for another time.