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From childhood, my parents ingrained in me a sense of duty and pride when it came to eating. An appetite is just another challenge to take on! Who cares if you’re already full, you must finish the food you’re served, or else you can not be a part of the exclusive and esoteric Clean Plate Club.
Learning to actually stop eating when I was full, rather than eat until I can’t move, has been a lifelong lesson. However, I still can get down with a good ol’ shove-your-face-until-you’re-beyond-capacity meal. One of my greatest joys is preparing something absolutely delicious for myself and a companion and just plain chowing down.
Especially, when I’m sharing this meal with a real eater.
Don’t get me wrong everybody can, and should, eat. But not everybody can eat. I think you know what I’m getting at here, that type of person with a seemingly bottomless stomach, who just keeps going back for more. No matter how much they put into their bellies, their waist-line stays the same. The very act of consumption for these rare eaters becomes purely recreational.
These are the ones I love to share my cooking with. The ones who just keep going back for more; who won’t stop until every last morsel has been accounted for.
I am blessed to be surrounded by just such breed of person on a regular basis, but I don’t take them for granted. Eaters make my world go round. They make me feel appreciated and valued.
Thanks guys, you know who you are.