How good food works.

Today was one of those strange, unfathomable days when it feels like everything is perfect and beautiful and sorted out. The grass looked greener, the birds were chirpier and the world was just better. 

 Some good coffee and sleep can change the world.
After a week of intense law school struggles ranging from sadly drafted memos to nerve wrecking mock trials, the counsel humbly pleads leisure before Your Readership.

It has been too long since I have had the time, the energy or the wifi to blog my thoughts. But here I am now, against all odds and evens, with fresh new theories to propound and things to criticise.

Life has been a gut-wrenching roller-coaster lately, the high’s being moments of confirmed self-acceptance and the lows being sudden bouts of overpowering self-doubt on the turbulent, twisty rail track of horror called College. Things change like water evaporates, social interactions accelerate and stop like a bad driver at traffic signals and academic work whooshes past like forgotten deadlines. Everything is decidedly weird.

And so, of course, I have been generously over-thinking.

When you are in law school, you meet a number of loud, ambitious and opinionated people. You also inevitably meet a few  frustrated souls with egos too huge to ever satisfy completely. But above all of that, you meet a lot of whiners on the dinner table.

After long hours of deep contemplative discussions with my best friend, I have come to the conclusion that the best kind of people to have around you are the ones who are capable of getting excited about basic food.

If the prospect of eating a large packet of Uncle Chips makes your day, I like you. And if nothing beneath a fancy dinner on a Caribbean cruise pleases you, then I can’t make any promises.
Bored food consumers  have high standards of satisfaction, extremely difficult to fulfill. “Good food” is not a very easy concept to them.

Those who rejoice on simple pleasures can make it through anything life throws at them. And those who choose not to, suffer even in the best circumstances.

The concept of “tasty” is so subjective, that it even depends on the social situations around the table.

I realised that eating something new all by yourself makes it exponentially more satisfying than when you are sharing it or discussing it with anyone. After ordering a very average sandwich at a coffee shop, it dawned on me how much I would have criticised it if I had shared it with a friend.

There is always the spontaneous eye contact after the first bite of a shared meal that almost demands a judgement on the quality of the food consumed. If its not too good, you exaggerate a belch and if its great, you swoon and sigh “mmming” too often in order to express your feelings about it. I am not saying it isn’t fun. 

But when you have something on your plate that you alone are going to eat and you are under no obligation to comment on it, the food, no matter how simple, is a lot better. 

It’s a pure experience. You shouldn’t have to make allowances for the reactions of your companions when the food is on your plate.

The preferences of food change throughout life, but the ability to lighten up just at  the thought of “good food” symbolises an inherent optimism and enthusiasm within a person that I appreciate. Further, the interpretation of the term itself tells you a lot about the person. Spending your life trying to find the perfect Manchuria noodles like “the kind I once had in Delhi” when there is perfectly fine Chinese available right next door is something your everyday unsatisfid food-cribber talks about.

Ambition is great, but pragmatism, acceptance and optimism need more attention in this fiercely pessimistic world of ours. Having the best dosa in the world would be amazing, but that doesnt mean there is no other dosa out there thats “worthy” of your taste buds.
Calm down, breathe, enjoy whatever you eat. You can’t fine dine all the time.

“Good food” is an illusion. Its up to you what you choose to like and how you choose to feel about it.

Now go ahead and wonder whether food was a metaphor for something deeper in this post ( you know it was) make up philosophies based on my ranting and appreciate my intellect while i finally slumber after a week of disorienting all nighters.


One thought on “How good food works.

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