100 Day Raw Food Challenge
A Heavy Scene
Lately, I've been ignoring the gorgeous living food in my fridge to eat my housemate's processed food.
I desire to eat this processed food, despite the fact that it
1. tastes uninteresting
2. smells bad, and
3. isn't good for me.
Last night for dinner and today for breakfast, I ate some Kraft cheese melted on a particularly processed kind of flatbread. The fingers I used to take the cheese out of the ziplock packaging smell pretty bad. Not just tired cheese bad, but a really unappealing, chemical "edible-but-not-nourishing." It wasn't a stale or rancid bad. It was the food talking to me, saying, "I will not be yummy. I didn't come from a respected cow, I was processed in a factory by disinterested people." The taint of process and consumption left a smell.
After... erm... consuming my breakfast (why not enjoy all your food, Piemancer?), I felt anxious. Until I had eaten, I had been excited for my day to start, and for the wonders that would unfold.
That seductive heroin cheese, though. I'm always fooled by the cheese. I ate some cheese again today. The first bite had a vaguely sour-SwissCheeselike taste, but that was all as far as flavor went. Rather than the wonderful satisfying smell and complex taste and focused texture of a raw milk morbier, it had a lackluster one-dimentional cheesy chewfeel. That was the only thing it had going for it.
Learn, Piemancer. Learn that such cheese will not satisfy. It is better to be satisfied in your hunger than to pacify your body with food-but-not-food
I must learn to spit food out. It's not to late just because i've taken a bite. If it's not delicious, sister, spit it out.
I desire to eat this processed food, despite the fact that it
1. tastes uninteresting
2. smells bad, and
3. isn't good for me.
Last night for dinner and today for breakfast, I ate some Kraft cheese melted on a particularly processed kind of flatbread. The fingers I used to take the cheese out of the ziplock packaging smell pretty bad. Not just tired cheese bad, but a really unappealing, chemical "edible-but-not-nourishing." It wasn't a stale or rancid bad. It was the food talking to me, saying, "I will not be yummy. I didn't come from a respected cow, I was processed in a factory by disinterested people." The taint of process and consumption left a smell.
After... erm... consuming my breakfast (why not enjoy all your food, Piemancer?), I felt anxious. Until I had eaten, I had been excited for my day to start, and for the wonders that would unfold.
That seductive heroin cheese, though. I'm always fooled by the cheese. I ate some cheese again today. The first bite had a vaguely sour-SwissCheeselike taste, but that was all as far as flavor went. Rather than the wonderful satisfying smell and complex taste and focused texture of a raw milk morbier, it had a lackluster one-dimentional cheesy chewfeel. That was the only thing it had going for it.
Learn, Piemancer. Learn that such cheese will not satisfy. It is better to be satisfied in your hunger than to pacify your body with food-but-not-food
I must learn to spit food out. It's not to late just because i've taken a bite. If it's not delicious, sister, spit it out.
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