“People who love to eat are always the best people.” This quote by Julia Child has always resonated with me on account of my love for food. Food is my instant source of happiness, probably why I am unusually selective of it. It has to be perfect. Not too salty, sweet or spicy, just an immaculate blend.
While I don’t consider myself to have an exceptional set of taste buds, I still try to find excellence in all components of my food. Anything that I can put on my plate has to be delicious enough without the need of toppings. My roommate always likes to add different ingredients to personalize her meal. As fascinating as that sounds, I have never been able to do that. For me, whether the meal is home-cooked, or from a restaurant, the flavor has to be strong enough to eliminate the need for any other spices or condiments.
As a child, I would only order Dal Makhani, and would often be chided by my parents for my complete disregard for any other vegetables. My loyalty for this Dal hasn’t wavered still. I vividly remember one of the many times I was the last one eating at a restaurant, scraping every last bit the gravy with Naan bread, with all ten members of my family waiting for me to finish. The waiter, assuming that I, like everyone else on the table had finished my food and took away my plate. My family had a great laugh, the subject of my love for Dal Makhani was much talked about, but I stared daggers at the waiter who remained oblivious. In my defense, I was only 5. Needless to say, food has been my ray of sunshine since I could make use of my taste buds.
A filling meal of my favorite cuisine (Indian or Thai) holds an unusual power over my disposition. Whether I am stressed because of academics or upset because of external factors, it has always had the ability to make me happier. It’s simple, really. There are times when I often deliberately look for reasons to make me feel distressed, so I can reward myself with Spicy Basil Fried Rice or Dal Makhani.
My mother, knowing this simple formula to make me happy, always used to cook my favorite dishes, especially during the whole week of exams in High School. As easily as I can be de-stressed with food, I can also become easily stressed. My family had to eat all my favorite dishes, not necessarily preferences of their own and as a result, my siblings used to be infuriated with me. It was a great feeling, knowing that every member of my family had to eat according to my food preferences.
I find it funny that something as ordinary as food has the power to give me so much happiness. I guess, for me, living to eat good food is one of the thrills of life inevitably connected to a satisfied mind. I feel incredibly lucky to be aware of this special trigger for my contentment. The power lies with food (and my incredible ability to savor it.)
