I think at this point I’ve written pretty extensively about everything I have a passion for, except one thing. And as you may have guessed, that one thing is food. Food is a topic that is especially on my mind as I start this essay, since I am currently in the middle of doing something called a “liver cleanse.” Supposedly there are stones that form in your liver and cause all sorts of problems, and if you follow this crazy method to flush them out, you feel a lot better. Unfortunately, part of this crazy method is that I can’t eat anything for approximately 21 hours.
This is a problem because I freakin’ love food. I’m not overly picky or particular about food either. I’ll gladly eat at McDonald’s, or at a fancy, expensive restaurant, or at just about any place in between. I’m not super adventurous in my eating (I’ve never eaten insects, for example), but I’m not one to turn up my nose at most foods either.
There are problems with being a food lover, of course. An obvious one that comes to mind is that loving food makes having to do a fast almost unbearable. Also, my love of food means that I have a few more extra pounds than I probably should. And we probably spend a little too much on groceries to feed my substantial appetite. But that’s just how it goes.
In any case, food is a big deal to me. I get very cranky in the morning if something interrupts my breakfast ritual. See, I eat the same thing for breakfast every morning. I also generally eat the same thing for lunch every day as well, but breakfast is really the big one. My breakfast consists of a breakfast sandwich on an English muffin with Velveeta and either turkey bacon or a sausage patty, plus an onion bagel with cream cheese on it, a banana, and two cups of black coffee. I would imagine that it seems somewhat ridiculous to some that I eat the same thing for breakfast every morning, and I would agree. It is ridiculous.
In fact, I’ll tell you all something that’s going to make it seem even more ridiculous: I look forward to this breakfast every morning. I am not a morning person, at all. I would gladly sleep in until noon if my children and my back would let me. But there’s one thing that helps get me out of bed every morning (aside from my crying children and my aching back), and that is thought of having breakfast. Even as I sit here, with a couple of hours to go until bedtime, the thought of tomorrow morning’s breakfast is making me salivate. If that isn’t ridiculous, I don’t know what is.
There is an element of convenience to this, as well. Eating the same thing every time I eat breakfast and lunch means I don’t have to make a decision about what to have for breakfast and lunch. And making decisions is something that I am not very good at. Even if I didn’t get excessively excited about my never-changing breakfast and lunch menu, I’d probably still just eat the same thing every day, because otherwise I’d spend an hour before every meal trying to figure out what to eat.
Supper, on the other hand, is a totally different story. See, my wife and I usually eat supper together (whereas breakfast and lunch are generally eaten separately, since she works and I stay home). And my wife does NOT like eating the same thing every day. So there’s no way she would stand for having the same thing for supper every night, even if I wanted to. Fortunately this works out pretty well for me, since she usually just picks out what we have for supper. Although she does, almost every day, ask me what I want for supper. And every time she asks me, my response is the same: “I dunno.” It’s a wonder that she still asks me this question.
In any case, as I mentioned earlier, I’m not particularly picky. I get a kick out of watching food shows or reading food blogs and listening to people go on and on about the wonders of really fresh food and organic food and whatnot. I tend to feel just the opposite. I like my food to be heavily processed. I mean, fresh is great and all, and fresh does certainly taste better, but I find something perversely satisfying about, say a big block of Velveeta. It’s just so…uniform. I appreciate uniformity. See, fresh food often has all kinds of seeds and skins and membranes and such that need to be dealt with. There’s just so much work involved. Processed food just needs to be eaten. Straight to the point. I like it that way.
I suppose as long as I’m talking about food, I should mention some of my favorite things to eat. Lasagna is definitely near the top of my list. Pizza with lots of meat and veggies is another favorite. Chinese food of any sort is always something I devour ravenously when given the opportunity. And I can’t fail to mention Indian tacos, which are basically regular tacos only with fried bread dough instead of a tortilla. Delicious.
As you may have guessed by now, there was no real point to this particular essay. I just wanted to ramble on at length about food, since food is something I care deeply about. Perhaps next week I’ll actually write a real essay. Hey, if anybody has any ideas for a topic for me, let me know! After all, this blog shouldn’t be JUST about me, should it?
One final note: the liver cleanse? Yeah, it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. I am tempted to try it again, because I didn’t follow the instructions EXACTLY, but as it stands, it didn’t really do anything. Kind of a waste of time and my taste buds.