Food: the Dangerous Duty of Delight
Those who know me well know I love food. If I had been cast in the Lord of the Rings trilogy, I probably would have gotten the part of Pippin. Why? Consider the following snippet of dialogue from The Fellowship of the Ring:
Strider: “Gentlemen, we do not stop until nightfall.”
Pippin: “What about breakfast?”
Strider: “You’ve already had it.”
Pippin: “We’ve had one, yes. What about second breakfast?”
[Strider continues to walk.]
Merry: “Don’t think he knows about second breakfast, Pip.”
Pippin: “What about elevensies? Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper? He knows about them, doesn’t he?”
It should come as no surprise that I’m referred to as The Hobbit at Love 89. Yes, I love food for the glory of God.
Well, yesterday evening my brother brought home some food from Ali Baba’s. I’ve eaten Ali Baba’s before and it has been wonderful. Last night, it was not.
The food smelled like puke. Literally. Nevertheless, because Danny offered me some of the rice and chicken, I tried them. (Turn down free food samples? I don’t think so. Besides, I thought, it can’t taste as bad as it smells.)
Guess what? The food tasted like puke. Literally. You know how certain edibles taste weird after you’ve brushed your teeth—like there are rival flavors battling it out on your taste buds and your mouth isn’t sure what the heck is going on? Well, that’s what I first thought of when I put the food in my mouth…only I hadn’t just brushed my teeth. As the sickening taste affected my mouth, a sickening thought entered my mind: this food really is as awful as my nose and mouth are telling me.
Guess what I felt like doing with my mouth full of culinary crud? Yep, I wanted to puke. Literally. I almost threw up right in front of my brother, who had graciously shared his bounty with me. Not the best way to show gratefulness, I know.
I’ve decided that not all food is a gift from God. Most of it is, but some of it is the direct produce of Satan himself, and last night I was subjected to food from the Devil’s own nasty garden. It ruined my appetite for the rest of the evening. Literally.
Strider: “Gentlemen, we do not stop until nightfall.”
Pippin: “What about breakfast?”
Strider: “You’ve already had it.”
Pippin: “We’ve had one, yes. What about second breakfast?”
[Strider continues to walk.]
Merry: “Don’t think he knows about second breakfast, Pip.”
Pippin: “What about elevensies? Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper? He knows about them, doesn’t he?”
It should come as no surprise that I’m referred to as The Hobbit at Love 89. Yes, I love food for the glory of God.
Well, yesterday evening my brother brought home some food from Ali Baba’s. I’ve eaten Ali Baba’s before and it has been wonderful. Last night, it was not.
The food smelled like puke. Literally. Nevertheless, because Danny offered me some of the rice and chicken, I tried them. (Turn down free food samples? I don’t think so. Besides, I thought, it can’t taste as bad as it smells.)
Guess what? The food tasted like puke. Literally. You know how certain edibles taste weird after you’ve brushed your teeth—like there are rival flavors battling it out on your taste buds and your mouth isn’t sure what the heck is going on? Well, that’s what I first thought of when I put the food in my mouth…only I hadn’t just brushed my teeth. As the sickening taste affected my mouth, a sickening thought entered my mind: this food really is as awful as my nose and mouth are telling me.
Guess what I felt like doing with my mouth full of culinary crud? Yep, I wanted to puke. Literally. I almost threw up right in front of my brother, who had graciously shared his bounty with me. Not the best way to show gratefulness, I know.
I’ve decided that not all food is a gift from God. Most of it is, but some of it is the direct produce of Satan himself, and last night I was subjected to food from the Devil’s own nasty garden. It ruined my appetite for the rest of the evening. Literally.