The weekend I resisted oysters, pork belly, foie gras and a few other delights including the love of my life, cheese.
I skipped the oysters — while others indulged — because I think I may have developed an intolerance. It was very hard, but I am pretty sure no one saw the tears in my eyes. The thing is: I love oysters. They are one of my favourite foods and the thought of not eating them again fills me with sadness. I debated having just one — how much suffering could one cause? No matter, I was so strong. (I did eat a bunch of the horseradish to placate myself — thankfully no one commented on that rather bizarre behaviour).
And the other things, well, rich foods can spoil an otherwise fun evening with my (hard to ignore) weeping. Sometimes I indulge and I am just fine (except for cheese – that relationship is over for the most part). But other times rich foods are a less delightful experience …and I had a feeling this would’ve been one of those times. My stomach — and other outside voices of reason — were speaking to my brain and I listened.
So what’s the plan? A life of sadness?
Nope, because there is still so much to live for. (And not just food, yo — but today I have food on my mind.)
This weekend there was also one of the things I love most in the world.
All is well.