Day Sixteen: food, glorious food

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As I sit writing this I’m scoffing a cream slice. I love food. Eating is, in fact, one of my very favourite things to do, closely followed by drinking coffee. Had I not been gracefully blessed to inherit my mother’s skinny genes I am in no doubt whatsoever that I would be the size of a house, possibly starring in one of those terrifying late night Channel 4 documentaries showing firemen cutting me free from my house because I can no longer fit through my own front door. As it stands I’ll probably just lose all my toes from diabetes and drop dead at 45 from heart disease. So no need to worry prematurely. But – huzzah – I was born with the ability to eat whatever I want with minimal podge, and by golly do I take advantage of it. From time to time I do wonder if my bad eating habits will one day catch up with me, possibly overnight, and I’ll wake one day to find I have gained 200 pounds and can no longer see my bellybutton, but I also like to live by the rule that tomorrow I might get hit by a bus, and do I really want my final thought on this earth to be “Shit….I wish I’d eaten that second eclair….”?

I’m also sad to report that in 2014 being vegetarian is still met with a certain level of distain. You’d think people would’ve gotten over it by now (I mean, come on, there are much weirder dietary choices. Fruitarianism anyone?) but this admission at restaurants is still often met with a raised eyebrow. And I will never understand the presumption that all vegetarians like mushrooms. And goats cheese. And bloody nut roasts. Have you ever eaten a tasty nut roast? No. Because there is no such thing. I do wish I was a little more adventurous with food. I tend to stick to what I know I like and consume it in large quantities, though I’m quite sure this rule has saved me many a food poisoning incident so many there’s something to be said for being picky.

To some, having to eat to refuel our bodies is nothing more than an inconvenience, time that could be spent doing something more productive. To those people I say – you’ve clearly never eaten a pecan and maple pastry from Cafe Nero or you wouldn’t say such ghastly things. Off you go, discover, eat and be merry. And be a dear and pick one up for me while you’re there. Thanks.

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