Sam 1/??

Food is an interesting thing. One of the most, if you stop and think about it, really. Of all that which we seek, it is only one which, in having and using it, we diminish. Absence and food are, I find, intrinsically bound. The absence of food drives us to seek it, and then from there, to consume it, thereby making it once more absent. People often speak of good meals the way they would speak of fine art. It’s something to be appreciated not just as a way to fill the void inside, but also as an object of beauty and of desire. But unlike a Cézanne or a Rodin, it cannot be left to be appreciated. Instead it is consumed in the process, leaving behind empty plates and dishes, a testament to that which once stood.

Food is also one of the only things which absents itself. Having food, unlike Art or Books, is not enough. That food will either be eaten, presumably by you, or it will rot. Either way it goes away. It’s the one thing that can’t be horded, and if it could, could not be appreciated. Beyond that, however, absence is what makes food so delicious. Familiarity breeds contempt, and having the same meal every day, no matter how incredible it was the first time, will get boring. It’s that separation, the absence of the favorite, that makes food appreciable, that makes it so good. It’s why the meals we remember most are those we ate once one vacation.