The very first memory I had of food was milk. And believe me, I hate that memory and will hate milk forever.
Thus, my first meeting with food didn’t go very well. And my relationship with food was very much abusive in the early years of my life too. The bitter nature of the bitter guard gave me scares of hunger and vegetables haunted me like evil creatures coming towards me with their swords and promises of good health. I hated them. And I still do. How much ever I try to convince myself to accept these vegetables, our relationship is not worth another try. And I think animals deserve them better.
I met meat. The happy phase of my life had started. The succulent chicken would never fail to please me and the softness of the fish would fill me with endless joy and my desire to eat returned. I stopped missing my meals and my health after my pathetic break up with vegetables flourished. I bloomed like a flower and my heart and stomach were at peace. We never fought and never disagreed. We used to spend days and days together but we were never bored of each other. On special occasions, when the chicken would dress up with spices and flavors, I felt special and was grateful to have such happiness in my life.
Then I met pizza. It was love at first sight. Her curves so round, were as perfect as the moon. The redness of her surface was delicious and her stretchy, long, soft body was all I dreamt about day and night. I was awestruck when I first looked at that beauty. Steaming hot and perfectly cooked, she lured me into her trap. When I experienced her first was the best night (dinner) of my life. The flavors of basil and tomato burst in my mouth while the cheese genteelly caressed my tongue. The meat had accompanied her, sending me directly to the seventh heaven. I was mesmerized as the arms of delicious pleasure hugged me.
Obviously meat was jealous. But it was understanding enough to get along with pizza. But vegetables still continued to haunt me but occasionally appearing with pizza on our dates. While pizza smiled beautifully, they grinned with horror across their face. I was practically helpless that time. But then I learnt to avoid such situations by never looking at the vegetarian menus.
That was the best trait about pizza. She gave me a choice. I could choose how she would dress up. And even gave me the privilege to choose her most beloved feature: the cheese. She always came like I wanted to see her and she never ever disappointment me.
But due to evil researchers and parents, we separated. But we managed to maintain a long distance relationship. I get to see her on special occasions and that time I can see nobody else but her.
But every relationship has temptations and distractions. I got distracted for a while. Burger came along. She was fluffy and delicious. She didn’t make me as happy as pizza did but she filled up the gaps in our relationship. I used to see her every other day at Mac Donald’s and would spend quality time with her. Pizza was jealous so she broke up with me. But I was glad to. She was not helping my body at all.
But we separated on good terms. We meet occasionally.
And I was back to square one. Under the captivity of healthy food. Helps my body but not my taste buds.
Well, as an optimistic foodie, I have learned except food in every form and keep moving on in my life.
But pizza, I still love you. And I will wait for you always. I will always look forward to our meetings at pizza hut.
(I am sure other foodoholics can relate to my life story! ;) :P)