How To Eat, the Next Big Blog
Labor Day took me to a movie. With my mom and a van full of women folk from my family. We set out to see Julie & Julia, a movie recommended to me by hundreds. Or was it thousands?
They were right, I liked it very much. What a pleasing movie. I went a little hesitantly because who likes a food movie in the company of pregnancy queasiness? But, I want a sequel. And all of that.
But now, here is my truth.
When I got home from the movie I was visited by some more women folk from my family. One of them said they were on a diet. Not only that, but money was on the line. If her diet could be followed strictly for one month, 100 dollars would be doled out to her by supportive family.
Well, I thought.
Julia Child would never suffer a diet. And that is why I am on her team. Diets are so boring I could cry. I am done following food fads, nutrition findings and trends in What Not To Eat. If I need to learn self-mastery it is not to sugar, but the temptation of thinking sugar is so horrible.
(Not when it tastes so right.)
Thus, I throw my kitchen towel in and declare: I am going to stop the nonsense and just enjoy my food! No counting calories, or vitamins, or pyramids, or food points or partially hydrogenated corn syrup fructose beans. Just a fork (or spoon, or fingers) and a happy soul.
And that is when I started thinking, why doesn't someone start a blog about enjoying food? We have a plethora of helpful cooking blogs (including yours, Juile). And recipe blogs for anything, cupcakes, seafood, vegan, gluten-free, vegetarian, libertarian, librarian--all of which I truly appreciate. But no blog (from which I can tell) spells out the recipe for strict food enjoyment.
I know what to eat. Teach me how to eat.
How to taste food. How to smell it. How to savor the savory and experience culinary divinity. They say to eat slowly, but how? How does one eat slowly when all my life I've eaten fast? How not to eat too much. How does one not eat too much?
I want to know how to eat with an empty stomach and a heart full of gratitude. I want food miracles, stories of life changing experiences. I want food transformations and see people become healthy humans not by hating food, but by loving it.
And on that note, I want to learn how to say a strong thanksgiving prayer before I eat. My pre-meal prayers are too short (thanks for the grub) and Chup's are benedictions of lengthy proportions (while my stomach is background music). Typically, I volunteer to say meal prayers because I will get to eat faster.
I want to posts on how to sip a beverage. How to teach my tongue to know ripe-ness and texture. How to succumb to the glory of slightly cooked asparagus, lightly buttered artichoke and well-placed aphrodisiacs.
Make me a student of ethnicity in the kitchen. How can I identify spices in a spoonful of chili? Teach me about how place setting and goblet choosing make for better meals. Explain to me about meals, when to eat them and how to love them. (Because right now meal time is nothing but pressure--Je resist!) Maybe even more importantly, how to cultivate appetizing dinner conversations.
(Tonight before a brief table sharing of pizza, I was reading from two heavy volumes of opinionated gore when Chup said to me, "Whatever you are reading, you can't talk about at the dinner table." Which made me laugh because nothing makes Chup lose his appetite more than a fiery opinion.)
And I don't mean a book. I mean a blog. I want a blog called: How to Eat. I want a daily update, with photos and poetic musings. I want an author who I can email with questions. And if that author is good-looking enough, I want a show, a TV show to follow. And I get some of the royalties.
Because look, I know God gave us a planet full of food, graced with history and experience. God even commanded me to enjoy the goodness of the earth. It is a commandment! Teach me how to be obedient. Please! My Salvation!
And how is this for incentive?
If anyone can produce an effective--yet beautiful--How to Eat blog I will sent them 100 dollars. From what I hear, it is the going rate for worthy endeavors.
