How A Good Meal Can Be A Sweet Mercy
How to love through nourishing what you need
I love to eat, or maybe this is my most significant inheritance. I never knew how to cook except for the basest things, but this was enough for me since, unbeknownst to me, I needed to have safe foods to eat.
If I ate something that I didn’t want to eat, I became physically ill and severely nauseous. I’ve tried over my adult years to break this and to expand what I eat, and I have succeeded in this, but this shit has to be cooked to gorgeous glory that I can’t deny how damn good it is.
One of my favorite things to do with one of the few things I loved to eat voraciously, corn, was pull the hairs from the corn and place them carefully in a garbage bag. I meticulously removed every single one so that no hair could be found on a single ear of corn. I did such a good job that my dad always praised me, and I loved having this responsibility.
My father also had very nimble fingers and would sit beside me outside in the squelching humidity, pulling each tiny golden strand of hair from the corn as if our lives depended on it.
I had a vegetarian meal with one of my dear friends, and this was the best meal of my life. This friend introduced me to…
