Overindulgence

Loving food does not make you fat. To me, this is the biggest misconception in our culture today. American puritan roots seem to cause people to equate pleasure with overindulgence. In my view Hedonism is the antithesis of pleasure.

Those who truly love something also treat it with care and respect, savoring quality over quantity.

I, like everyone, have been guilty of mindless gluttony from time to time, but I find that this inhibits my true hunger and desire and therefore my ultimate satisfaction. It is almost as if my taste buds numb to the flavors I consume, everything becomes interchangeable, meaningless and uninspiring.

There is a tipping point in the bell curve of returns. I think we have a limited capacity for pleasure as humans. Perhaps this is why, as MFK Fisher put it, " a good meal is wasted on those newly in love". One pleasure eclipses all others when it is fresh and potent. Would we want a watered down version of either love or cuisine? Well, those of us who savor certainly would not.

Perhaps the root of Hedonism is an internal emptiness, a deep well that cannot be filled, yet begs to be.

Like the sex addict who "indulges" in one night stands, over and over and over, and yet finds no real satisfaction, the American consumer eats and eats and eats, rarely having a decent meal and losing touch with the primal pleasure that one can bring.

Perhaps the problem is not overindulgence, but underindulgence. Contentment is not happiness, eating is not tasting, and fucking is not erotic. I want to be happy. I want cool, unctuous oysters not Long John Silver's. I want raw passion not a casual quickie. But, I am also a woman who chose New York over all the other more practical cities in the country. I am a woman whose sustenance is the primal soul-nourishing flesh of desire and the exotic seasoning of fearless experience. I am a woman who savors.

What is the Point of a Romantic Relationship?

Ever since I ended my last relationship and found utter satisfaction with myself, I have been struggling with the question of why we bother with romantic entanglements. Sadly, many of us look for salvation in a partner, we build a life around them and that is a weight too heavy for any couple to bear. If you are satisfied with your life, not in need of a new one, and if you take sex out of the equation (Which ultimately is inconsequential anyways), what is it that a romantic partnership can offer you that a platonic one cannot?

This question haunted me, the tangle of thoughts created a brier patch in my brain.

Last week I had a rather glorious epiphany on the subject. I was contemplating the fact that I am not "looking" for a man or a relationship, but it still feels so good when the possibility arises. For some reason this thought lead me down another path of reasoning; perhaps it is not a utilitarian point I need to be looking for.

For someone who has decided to devote her life to the study of mankind's greatest pleasure and comfort (food), it is rather ironic I did not come to this conclusion earlier. I don't ask, "What is the point of eating foie gras"?

Human beings need to eat to live, but they don't have to eat well. The pursuit of great cuisine has no point beyond furthering our enjoyment of the human experience (and perhaps expression of self through consumption?). Food, love, play, friendship, adventure: these are all elements of a good, full life. Love as an element of, and not the key to, a good life makes sense to me. Love as a luxury, this I can accept.

The aspect of this thing I struggled with the most was the idea that love is the ultimate goal. It cannot satisfy you completely any more than a perfectly prepared leg of lamb, but it certainly can add another level of pleasure to this earthly experience of ours.

Yes, love can comfort you like food, it can enhance a moment, it can bring a smile to your face, but it cannot be your life.

This explanation I can live with. I appreciate the fact that food means more than sustaining life and I can accept that being in a romantic entanglement can fill you with a sense of bliss. Because it is not the basis for a happy life, simply a piece of the puzzle, it no longer requires a rational explanation.

I still find myself with serious doubt about the sustainability of this pleasure, but at this point it seems as inconsequential as worrying about your last bite. A topic for another time. For now I will relish my emblazoned heart and short ribs with the same reckless abandon, resting in the succulent, elemental, utility of them both!