Anemia

The last few days have been physically trying. When I am sick to my stomach, and too nauseous to eat, I become frustrated. Even ill, I dream of wanting steaks, with a caramelized-by-butter outer layer, and a soft, deep pink center, with a smokey Bleu cheese pouring over the fat-crusted edges. I dream of eggs benedict with yolks over-medium, and a sea of Hollandaise smothering the life out of the Ovum. And my favorites, I dream of carbs and dairy. Potatoes. Cheese. Pasta. Cheese. Bread. Cheese. A perfect grilled cheese, an equilibrium of hot, stringy sharp cheddar tang, and the absorbent sponge of buttered bread.

The disappearance of my appetite is, for me, almost frightening. Sometimes, I feel my life force is directly connected to my literal hunger. And so when I am not hungry, I begin to feel unsettled and scared. Forcing myself to eat is incredibly uncomfortable as well. When my mother reassures me that the body doesn't need food everyday, I don't feel any better. When I think about all those cleanses and liquid diets, I become instinctively dubious. It seems totally unnatural to survive on liquid alone. Food is both necessity and pleasure, and I can think of nothing else in life that is as universally so. Emotional discord that leads to a lack of appetite is such an encompassing threat. These elements of life that cut in to the very act that both nourishes me and stimulates me are rejected. And soon, very soon, I will feast and feed with the vigor and enthusiasm hibernating inside.

There is no love sincerer than the love of food. ~George Bernard Shaw

In an Attempt to Put Forth Some Effort.

Recently my "godmother" and a best friend of mine both remarked to me on my love of food, and my inclination to communicate well by writing. My "godmother" said that with all of the attention I pay to food, cooking, beer, and wine, I ought to do something with it. I bring my camera to meals, and photograph the dishes and wine. During my darkest times, unable to eat from heartbreak, the only thing that could get my mind off of love and into the saltine crackers at my side, were television shows andaudiobooks about food. In fact, as I go through life, I realize that the culinary arts and the relationship people have with food is truly one of my stronger passions. When the perfect pizza becomes Utopia in it's simplicity, I am consumed. Consumed by that which I am consuming. Run around that for a while.

I believe cooking is like making music, and eating is like listening to a new album. The chef can create all types of food, all genres of music; and it can be as simple and acoustic as 3 ingredients, or it can be a symphonic layering of ingredients. Or it can be a bombardment of ingredients that don't always make sense. And in eating, you get to explore a new offering from our artist. Upon first taste, you may have a song that is clearly your first favorite. The cheese offering is usually the thing that catches me. But as you keep tasting, you hear the violin of the leek, the hum of pistachio paste... and then after enough listens, you may even find that the

track you thought you disliked the most, is actually quite spectacular. I may try those beets again!

As Virginia Woolf said, "One can not think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well..."