When you think of art, what is the first thing that comes to mind? Is it a painting? A musical symphony? an upside down urinal?1
Whatever art you may have imagined, I can bet you that eating did not come to mind.
Today, I picked up a book that I normally would have never read in a million years called The Art of Eating by M.F.K. Fisher. This book has expanded my horizons similarly to a dog eating bacon for the first time.
The Art of Eating is collection of books written by the esteemed American food writer M.F.K. Fisher. With the bulk of her books being written around the 1940’s.
Because this book was written in a more literate era, the prose is absolutely velvety. Allow me to give an excerpt of the first 5 sentences of the second chapter.
“When a man is small, he loves and hates food with a ferocity which soon dims. At six years old his very bowels will heave when such a dish as creamed carrots or cold tapioca appears before him. His throat will close, and spots of nausea and rage swim in his vision. It is hard, later, to remember why, but at the time there is no pose in his disgust. He cannot eat; he says, “to hell with it!”
Who writes like this?! Its as if I’m chewing taffy.
M.K.F. Fisher is also hilariously funny. Within the first 11 pages I giggled multiple times audibly at her clever wordplay and cheeky sense of humor.
It should be said, that typically, I would never have picked up a lifestyle read about eating. Its generally not in my wheelhouse.
I happened upon this book because I was looking for something new to read. I rifled through every book about politics about biographies, or religions that I knew nothing about. Nothing was striking my interest.
And all of a sudden, and without warning, a great force descended upon my colon.
This was not ordinary movement. This was an advanced movement. With all the urgency of pregnant lady’s water breaking, this colonic force had to be addressed.
But I was in the bookstore, I had come all this way. I needed a book and fast.
In an act of desperation, I strode to the “Staff Picks” section. I saw a book that said 50th year anniversary. Trusting my gut, and hoping it doesn’t fall through my trousers, I pick it up hardly looking at the title.
If its been around for 50 years and getting a reprint, it must be at least decent right? That was my logic at the time at least.
I waited 30 agonizing seconds, each one a knife in the side of my stomach. I must have been sweating in front of the poor cashier, who was trying to make lovely conversation about how she loved the book.
“Would you like a recei-“
“NO RECEIPT THANKS”
And I sprint out the nearest door to find the nearest toilet, port-a-potty, or hole in the ground.
Luckily, I live close by, so majesty of my home’s own throne was not too far.
After… answering natures call… I could finally hear myself think. And the first thing I thought,
“Welp, Lets give this book a Try.”
And I’m really glad I did.
I would have never read this book in a million years had some outside force spurned me to make a hasty decision. Sometimes I think that I am learning something new, or getting outside of my comfort zone. When really, I am tasting a different flavor of the same candy.
I’m pursuing more of the same instead of expanding my horizons.
I want to expand my horizons more. To me it seems that to avoid doing more of the same, There must be an outside force.
Who knows, that is just a piece of my mind.
Best,
T
Piece of Your Mind 
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