The Feast of Love by Charles Baxter is one of my all-time
favorite books. Now, it actually has very little to do with food. It has to do
with, well, love. Relationships. The way people intertwine with each other. And
now that I’ve mentioned it, I have to confess that it doesn’t have much to do
with this topic. But read it if you haven’t!
Ok, so, on to the topic…I referred to this in my last post
about health, that I have a somewhat adversarial relationship with food. I’m
not a foodie, not remotely. Part of it is due to dental problems I had as a kid
(discussed in my last post), but here I’ll delve into another reason (besides
the usual obsession we women have with our bodies). My brother is autistic. He
is pretty functional on the autism scale, but when he was younger, he was
pretty textbook. And my parents, incredible advocates whom I give immense
praise and credit for how well he’s doing today, used to take us out, take us
on trips, no matter what. We did ‘normal’ things, as a family. For this I am
grateful. But we did go out to eat a lot. And we made scenes. Lots of scenes.
Today we reminisce about the times when we could clear a room in under ten minutes,
but back then, when I was a kid myself, it brought about a lot of anxiety. All
focused around eating. My brother has eating issues all his own, and he often
threw tantrums if he felt overwhelmed, which he did often in public places. So
I would sit at the table, starting to eat, just waiting for the inevitable to
happen. And once his tantrum started, the eating was basically done. So even
now I am not so comfortable eating out, or eating in front of people (though
certainly with close friends I’m ok). I’m a little concerned about sounding like
an ungrateful headcase, but it’s more of trying to get at the source of these
issues.
I’m useless in a supermarket. So many choices, I get easily
overwhelmed. I used to drive my former roommates nuts when we went shopping
together. It didn’t hold my interest long enough. I cannot bulk shop, way too
much commitment there. I often need things for the apartment, go to the store,
and come home with some pita bread, hummus, Fancy Feast, and maybe some fruit.
And then a day later, I wonder why I have nothing to eat in the house. Like on
tv when the logos on clothes are blurry due to censorship or whatever, I walk
around a market and it’s like the items are invisible to me. I’m just not
interested. I go straight to get some chips and salsa, or some cheese, and
avoid everything else. I have the appetite of a bird, or maybe a small family
of birds. People I know (ok, my mother) tell me that I’m lucky as hell to not
have the emotional ties to food that make others (ok, my mother) reach for the
fridge door when anger or depression hits. But I say, wait. I do have emotional
ties to food – or rather, to avoiding food. I don’t crave it, and sometimes it’s
frustrating to be in the store, or out to eat, and have nothing calling to me.
I stand there in aisle 5 and exhale slowly, wondering what I will buy, because
there’s nothing that appeals.
What's funny is that, while I"m not so interested in traditional cooking shows, I am somewhat mesmerized by shows like Gordon Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares (where he goes to a restaurant and constructively critiques their cooking workflows), and You Are What You Eat, another BBC show where a nutritionist goes to the houses of people who need drastic changes in their food habits. I cannot look away, I find these shows so fascinating. So who knows what that means.
So it’s a combination of genetics, personal history, and teeth
that don’t work as well as ‘real’ teeth (I’m all capped since my childhood
dental adventures). My family is very close, and my brother is loads better these days, thankfully. I constantly think about the world, and the obscene number
of people in the world who don’t have the luxury of choosing not to eat, and it
kills me. So for the moment, for each day, I eat what I want, leave the rest, do
my best. And keep an eye on the various organizations which combat hunger and
poverty (I hope to volunteer at some point).
