Fuel the Wag
What is my favourite food is a complicated yet easy question to answer. It can’t be defined, for me, in just one word or phrase
My interpretation of “favorite food” lies in the moment in time I decided it was my favourite. When that happened to me, it was, and always has been my “favourite food”, as labeled by my young ego at that specific moment in my life. My mind, body and soul all agreed on this favourite food.
I remember it well, like it was yesterday. I was 6 years old and participating in my first year of hockey. My father was my coach so I always went with him and came home from games and practice.
One particular time I remember being like super hungry after a game. I felt good about playing the game, about how I played, because every game that I can remember, I would analyse the things I did on the ice. It would dictate how I felt about myself. It was becoming part of my self esteem, good or bad.
So as we drove up to the house after that particular game, and as the front door opened, I could smell a wonderful aroma coming from the kitchen. I wasn’t sure what it was. I was only 6, so I knew nothing about cooking.
My mother had prepared dinner and it smelled like nothing I have ever smelt before. It didn’t smell sweet, or like baking. My mom would bake a lot and I knew when she would be making a sweet thing for dessert, or company coming over because I always got to lick the spoon when she was done.
This particular night, being tired, super hungry, proud of my accomplishments for the day, made that dinner, that night, one of the best dinners I can remember. When my mother brought me that plate of food, I took it on my fork and shoved it in my mouth. I chewed it up and felt a rush of exhilaration flood my body.
My body liked it just fine. My mind told me to eat faster, so I said to myself, “You might be able to get seconds!”
I did just that, wolfed that plate down, got seconds, and was pleasantly stuffed.
“I like that food” I told my mother.
” That is my favourite food of all time, from now on and forever!” I said to myself. “To this day, that food, whether it is cold out, hot out, rainy, sunny, snowing or cloudy. That will be my go to food.”
Looking back, now being a more experienced adult, experiencing 19,345 days on earth, I realize that I must have had that food at least once a week, so that means I have had that food at the least, 2764 times or more. I also have noticed that when I do eat my favourite food, it never seems to give me that rush that it gave me the first time I ate it. It doesn’t have that zip when it hits my stomach, like it did when I was six.
I notice now when I eat my favourite food that no matter how hungry I am when I eat it, it is only a small, short, brief exhilaration that I get when I eat it. I now know that because of the label I put on that food so many years ago, and how many times I have eaten it, it becomes almost passe, almost “a take it or leave it”mind set. I know when I eat it now, I always try to make it better by adding hot sauce, or cheese, or something to make the taste give me that original rush of exhilaration that I had when I was six.
I have also realized, that because of this, I need to evolve in the way I think of my food. Now being an experienced human, I need to think of a more logical way to fuel my body, because that is what food is. Food is no longer a entertainment activity, or an ego pacifier but a simple way to fuel the vessel you drive.
This world is made up of labels. Labels of the mind that decide what is good or bad or irrelevant to each individual. Those labels will change through out ones life and so will you. Always keep evolving, if not, you start to die.
Spaghetti and Meatballs
Written by: Stephen Brown; Mansfield Grey