Eat grapefruit, that carnal pink fruit that one must rip
apart in order to enjoy. Notice each juicy aril popping in your mouth; notice
the slight bitterness left on your tongue that makes you appreciate the next
sweet bite.
Eat a farm-fresh egg cooked simply, yolk runny, white just
set. Stare into the unctuous sunshine upon your plate and imagine that the sun
in the sky will take the yolk’s cue and be so bold tomorrow.
Nibble on herby olives, packed with rosemary and thyme and
lemons and peppers. That little fruit has come a long way from being a hard,
bitter thing hanging off of a silvery branch. Perhaps it has soaked in the
Tuscan sun, or has drunk Greek rainwater. Perhaps this next one will implore
you to close your eyes and travel to its origins.
Drink strong black coffee in a big mug for both of your
hands to hold. No sugar, no cream, just deep topaz liquid sliding down your
throat and warming your body. The farmers toiled in the heat to produce those
beans, and the roaster kept a shrew eye upon them. That which you are drinking
is the end product of life-long business, of historic origins thousands of
years old. You are sipping time. It invigorates you.
On a grey winter day such as this, eat food guiltlessly,
passionately, slowly to savor every layer of flavor. Eat juicy foods that muss
up your shirt and stain your fingers, foods that burst between your teeth. Eat
brightly colored foods so that the dreary air outside is counteracted by the joy
you are relishing, spots of rainbow on your plate. Dare that grumpy winter to
dampen your meal. Flaunt the foods you’ve found on a day that seems so devoid of
life. Eat. Savor. Bon apetit!
