Here’s a thing. I invest heavily in food. I consider it important, I do my best to eat good food, generally that I or we have made ourselves increasingly with foodstuffs that we grown ourselves. I like to keep my food mileage down, reward local restaurants and producers… I also have a terrible relationship with food, and I have invested in a heavy me. You might say I have an eating problem. I must have lost 20 to 30 stone in my lifetime only to find myself uncomfortably at my highest weight, wheezing and preferring to weed our veggies on my knees rather than have to bend down. That’s more info about me than I was planning on sharing. However, it’s the context for one of those moments of clarity that has just hit me.
Tucking in just now to a supper of sausage, mash, beetroot and courgette I decided I just wasn’t that hungry. The prospect of a second meal of beetroot and courgette in a day just wasn’t a tasty one, even if the sausage (Manchester ones, good seasoning) and the first mash we’ve had in a bit was. I had a realisation; gluts are not conducive to gluttony.
Flashing back to my last big weight loss I remember that I kept only rice and breakfast cereal in the house (I didn’t think I could be trusted with more variety). When I found myself asking, am I hungry? I’d tell myself that If I were truly hungry I would eat a bowl of rice, again. If that was not good enough maybe I’m not hungry, maybe I’m just hankering for tasty things.
Why am I bothering to consider this thought in text? Good question, if I ask it myself (which of course I do, I’m just talking to myself into the cyber-ether). I’m bothering because if I’m not alone in this, and if seasonal eating involves gluts – then our eating habits in the era of endless choice may be increasingly at the mercy of our pallets than our bellies. And pallets are seldom sated even if bellies are.