Eat to live? Live to eat?

There are many reasons why we eat, sometimes we eat to fill that rumbling stomach — a purely physiological requirement, but other times, we eat for our hearts and (corny as can be, I know), our souls. Many of us are rather methodical about food, treating food as an invariant, a necessity to tick off the daily list. I’m not saying that it is wrong to have such a pragmatic view about food, but it is rather a shame; it is untapped potential. No, foodies like us are not food snobs. We appreciate food (sometimes obsessively) but we don’t expect everyone to treat food with as much intimacy as we do. It is extremely unfortunate if we are thoughtless about eating though.

More often that not, it is not just the food; it is the act of eating and the stories we build around food; it is the gathering of friends around a table and their leaving hours later. Food is disarming, it makes everyone more receptive.

Food should be more than mere sustenance, it is more than just fuel for the body — food can feed us in so many other enriching ways. Life would be so much more vivid if we take a daily ritual and turn it into a celebration. If we need to eat everyday, why not make an effort to make eating enjoyable? It magnifies the moments we find joy in, and it heightens the festivity of daily life.

The smell of roasted potatoes conjures images of Christmas past, and the nuanced fragrances of freshly brewed tea is lubricant for conversation — it is alchemy of the highest order. The velvety smoothness of a crème brulée screams indulgence, the heady scents of a beef stew signal the start of the chilly months and a tart made from plump and flavourful stone-fruits, so effortlessly charming. We have five senses, so use them.

The moments shared alongside food evoked by the mere whiff of familiar smells and the taste of shared memories. The simple act of having eggs (over-easy, please) for breakfast instead of cereal (again) can make every morning feel like a luxurious weekend — food can be transformative.

Enjoy every mouthful: appreciate the textural adventure, the contrast in flavours and the intensity of the moment. Every meal can be a bookmark in your autobiography, and you can indulge in as many dog-eared pages as you’d like.

Remind yourself to consciously scribe food experiences into your memory. It is like making an inventory, but not for bolts and screws, rather, for a box of histories waiting to be rediscovered and for indulging and celebrating with.

Yes, I’m celebrating — I’m having a hot cup of tea and a gently warmed up scone. It is glorious. I live to eat.