i love you, but...
iâ€™ve chosen food.
*delicious affairs from the spring/ summer of 2013
*Cover: MadSo burger from Madison Social. Taken digitally as part of the food photography I did. Tallahassee, FL, DSLR photo
this is me.
*Pizza slice from Gaines St. Pies brought to St. Michaelâ€™s Pub for the Breaking Bad premiere, Tallahassee, FL, iPhone photo.
this is me.
s pizza. T
his is an homage to the most important relationships I’ve had this past season food, food, and food. Some were “love at first bite” while most ended in bittersweet chocolatey heartbreak. I learned a lot from each but, more importantly, gained a lot from each. So when summer ended, I began wondering, “why do we love food so much?” It must have to do with our correlation between unconditional love from our parents and the nourishment they provide. Then we go on to cement that correlation. It becomes the lunch period at school where we spend time with our friends. Or perhaps dinner during a first date. Fine dining with your significant other’s family. Then the wedding cake you smear on your new sugar daddy or momma. And so on and edible underwear and so forth. Now, switch over to our digital existence and the association between love and food is there as well. Food, an analog experience, is making its way into the digital sphere as an alter ego of itself. Just look at the term “food porn”. The very nature of associating food with the industry that portrays fantasy lovemaking is in of itself comical but commentative. Food is, of course, a biological necessity, but it is also insinuating that it’s a biological turn on. So it is at least arguable, that if one were to believe there is even the slightest link between sex and love, that “food porn” must in some way affect us so strongly that we react animalistically. For instance, there seems to be a loyal crowd of Instagram users that tend auto-’like’ any food photography that pops up on their feed. I, included in this group, also contribute posting a lot of those pics, too. Therefore, isn’t there some significance when we double-tap that sepia-toned, cropped exhibition of spaghetti and meatballs cooked by that one friend who moved away that you don’t talk to anymore? Sure, there is. The only relationships worth having are the ones that make the meal more delicious. It adds spice. Flavor. They can be romantically sweet or tragically bitter. As long as it’s not bland, you made the right order. I occasionally think of a Woody Allen quote: “To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering one must not love. But then one suffers from not loving. Therefore, to love is to suffer; not to love is to suffer; to suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love. To be happy, then, is to suffer, but suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore, to be happy one must love or love to suffer or suffer from too much happiness.” This most recent spring and summer, I’ve had the pleasure of suffering a delicious meal or three while continuing to idealize the concept of love. If I had to explain the perfect companion through an example of dialogue, it’d be this: Me: “...it’s like we finish each other’s...” Her: “...food!” That sounds about right.