Butter Makes It Better

I know I've been neglecting the blog. I saw it happen to other people, but I swore it wouldn't happen to me. In all honesty, my avoidance of writing has been a two-prong issue.

Issue 1: As mentioned in my last post, everyone in my house was barfing. Puke can really keep a person away from the thoughtful, reflective, alone-time of writing a blog.

Issue 2: I honestly didn't feel like I've had anything interesting to say. This issue, in retrospect, should have been a non-issue. In reviewing past entries, any moron could clearly see that I've written a lengthy blog entry regardless of their relevance or interest to anyone else but me.

So...I guess I have no excuse. Moving on then, what shall todays topic be? Food? Ok, I think that will work.

I have lately been worried about my relationship with food. Not only because of the obvious extra weight I've been carting for about 3 years now, but also because I have begun to wonder if my love of food is abnormal in any way.

I would not suggest that it is just a "woman thing" to be comforted by certain foods, but if my husband is any indication, a mans viewpoint on eating is very different from a womans. He could care less about food. Really. It is something he does merely to keep living. Yes, he may "enjoy" a good bowl of chicken and dumplins', or polish off his (small) serving of food and say "Dang, that was good, honey!". But in reality, food is nothing to him. He eats because his body needs the fuel. He is not a snacker, and never has been. I'm sitting there, popping Wheat Thins like a champ, (and oh yea, do we have any of that cheese block left in the frig?) and he can stand right next to me and not eat a single cracker.

I am trying to understand him, and in the process, understand myself, when it comes to food. What is better than a nice warm roll, fresh from the oven? Well, a nice warm roll with butter, of course! What is more delicious than the blend of Thanksgiving dinner, singing together in delicious harmony on your fork....cranberries, turkey, stuffing, gravy? Not much compares with that. Give me a nice, crisp, salad and I'll enjoy the heck out of it, but I'd enjoy it even more if you make it a Chef Salad (minus the ham, double the turkey) or my all time favorite, the Waldorf Salad. Italian food, Chinese food, Mexican food? I'm there. I'm all in.

And Brian, well, he's there...but he'll only have a bit..then he's full. The little switch inside his brain that tells him to "Eat the food, savor the food, love the food." is obviously turned off. His switch is simply stuck in the "Eat the food" position. Then it has a small warning light that blinks when his tummy gets full. Unlike my warning light, which appears to have burnt out, and never warns me against the evils of the second helping.

One point of contention between us is the issue of ice cream. He simply does not understand the pleasure I derive from eating the stuff. He just doesn't get it. I have already psycho-analyzed my love of ice cream, and I can clearly trace it back to my childhood in Pennsylvania, perhaps the Summer Ice Cream Eating Capitol of the United States. There are Mom & Pop ice cream shops in every town. Not only that, but if your a long-time resident, you know exactly where to go for the biggest scoops and best flavor selection. I have many (and I mean many) happy childhood memories of eating a big scoop of mint chocolate chip or cookies n'cream (depending on the time line..was it before or after 4th grade? I pick a favorite and stick with it.) and sitting on a sticky picnic table with my family, enjoying the treat like crazy. Usually, we'd go for ice cream after supper, so the sun would be going down, lightning bugs would begin to emerge into the fading dusk, and the heat of the day would dissipate. I'd sit on the sticky bench, swing my tanned and scabby knees, and lick that cone for all it was worth. Ice cream equals good memories for me.

Brian, on the other hand, thinks ice cream is a too-sweet, too-filling, too fattening item, that people in Pennsylvania are addicted to like crazy heroin junkies. I guess down in Georgia, they didn't indulge in ice cream too much. They were too busy sipping' sweet tea on their porch swings.

I wish I had his nonchalance about food sometimes. He's just moved beyond it. Of course, he doesn't like to get into debates about food with me. He is in the best shape of our marriage right now, due to his consistent running habit, and his general disdain for indulging in most food. I must also concede that he is Active Duty Military, and it is part of his job to stay fit.

But maybe because over the course of our marriage, I've seen his weight fluctuate, and now it has evened out and he looks great, I can only measure myself against him, and feel bad. I'm not huge, and please don't take my descriptions of food as an indication that I'm spooning ice cream down my gut between bites of Wheat Thins and swallows of gravy. I'm carrying a good 20 extra pounds, yes, but the point of this discussion is more to understand my attitude towards food than my daily consumption of it.

The other day, we went to Burger King for lunch. We both ordered the same thing, a chicken sandwich and fries. As I was polishing off the last of my sandwich (I'm not a total pig, I avoided the majority of the fries), I noticed that first, he'd abandoned the top of his sandwich bun. Half way through the meal, he'd discarded both buns, and was eating his sandwich quite naked. I got annoyed, both at the fact that I'd chowed down on my own sandwich without a second thought to the dangers of the "carbs", and also that he'd even bothered to order a sandwich at all. Why not just get chicken nuggets if your going to toss the bread??? So annoying!!

Just one of those times when his disdain for food, and my enjoyment of it, causes me to feel annoyed at him and embarrassed by myself. I hate carrying extra weight, but I love food. I really just wish I could separate myself from it like he has. He has the self control that I am lacking. He never associates a good meal with a good memory. He is simply never the one to suggest that we get dessert. Good Lord! He doesn't even care all that much for the Holy Grail of ALL Food - Chocolate!!!

I've got issues, clearly. I would just like to know more about how to deal with them, I guess. I don't want to turn off my love of a good meal, but I guess I wish I could adjust it more easily. I can say "no", but sometimes, I just associate the pleasure of eating with happiness, and I think that is a slippery slope that I'm already tumbling down. With a nice blueberry muffin in my hand. With butter, of course.

PS. Photo credit for above picture: Pennsylvanians do INDEED love their dairy. That is a 900 pound butter sculpture that was featured at the 93rd Pennsylvania State Farm Show.