Yesterday as I sat in a Subway glowering at the walls full of jumbled, inaccurate NYC subway maps that made me long for home and just pissed me off at the same time, my dad texted me and told me he hoped I enjoyed my meal.
I don’t think I’ve enjoyed a single meal since I started this trip.
Realizing in the midst of a Subway sandwich may seem unfair, but even during decent or good meals I take little joy. I had a medium rare steak with veggies, mashed potatoes and a bottle of wine last weekend and though it tasted good, I derived little pleasure from it.
Look at this Arby’s feast…
it was just calories to me empty of enjoyment.
Those who know me know a man/man-child who shovels food in his mouth at every opportunity, voraciously and with great relish. A larger portion of my food enjoyment than I previously realized must be social. I love to cook meals for others because of the care I can put into making something pleasing to someone else and the reaction they give to my effort. I love to share nice meals out, nice experiences because of the memories it creates, the conversation it lubricates, the fun of it all.
Eating alone… brings none of these pleasures. The only satisfaction, beyond the caloric, are foods that bring back memories of happy events, foods that cool me on really hot days and the now rare beer, like the Sierra Nevada Pale Ale I’m sipping as I write this.
If I could have a crunchy hand dipped corn dog maybe with some tonkatsu sauce I’d love it even alone. I’d think of a time in a street fair in San Francisco when I ate a delicious corn dog with Caitlin as we listened to the bands on the street and sampled from the carts and walked into the local stores… and the time we went to Asia Dog after walking across the Brooklyn Bridge to Manhattan from a movie in downtown Brooklyn and I had one of each corn dog they make, which is only two!
Perhaps when I finish this journey I will have a better perspective on food and value its social worth more than its satiation of my unbridled gluttony. I’ve needed a healthier relationship with food for a looooonnnng time.
p.s. A prime example is here at this hotel. A White Castle is next door. I dream of going over and getting a crave case and demolishing it, but I can’t see any fun in it doing it alone. It just seems… incredibly sad.
p.p.s. Yes I am ashamed that is a bottle of Beringer lol… know what that costs in a hotel? 30 F**CKING dollars haha.
Day 24
Day 25
3 Comments
Welcome back…
I actually have a similiar problem; meals by myself are never the same as meals with company. I don’t cook elaborate meals for myself; I tend to reheat things or just do a single, simple course. Meals out sometimes feel hollow.
I’m somewhere in the middle of the introvert/extrovert spectrum, but given the adventure you’re on, what if you tried approaching others at restaurants and asking if they’d like some company? I think a lot of folks would think what you’re doing is fascinating…they might think it crazy, but I bet they’d like to hear about it all the same. Food for thought….pun intended.
I am approaching the 30 year mark as a commercial airline pilot. Eating alone from time to time is something I have had to adjust to over the years. I have found that a good book, striking up a conversation with someone at the bar or even catching up on what my Facebook friends are doing helps the solitary culinary experience. (The Solitary Culinaries….good name for a band maybe?). Anyway, that happens to be what I am currently doing at a McCormick & Schmick’s in Chicago. Keep up the great reporting. I am enjoying it immensely.