Thought for food

Hello.

My name is Suzanne. And I am a food addict.

I can hardly remember when it started. My life’s always been a haze of culinary delights: braai chops, Ouma Susanne’s bobotie and steamed chocolate pudding, my mum’s Charmoula fish with Pad Thai noodles, my dad’s lasagne potjie, strawberry ice cream with fudge crumble from Marcel’s, cupcakes, salmon fashion sandwiches, the Eastern Food Bazaar, Ben’s Cookies...I could fill up a whole blog post, just naming delicious things.

I don’t think I’m an emotional eater. Maybe I am, but I’m just so invested in everything I eat, that I probably don’t even notice eating more when I feel down. So the possible monthly PMS pig-out is just scrumptious business as usual for me. Hence identifying myself as a full-blown food addict. I’m constantly looking for, cooking, baking or thinking about delicious things to eat. And heaven help me, I ALWAYS want more.

Although I worry sometimes that the word “obsessed” applies to me, I've decided to embrace my food addiction, especially since I’m more inclined towards healthy, home-cooked meals (my constantly nagging sweet tooth aside). My habit of pondering my next meal does not (always) stem from a panicky feeling that if I don’t chew on something right now, the world will explode. Instead, the question, “What’s for dinner?” fills my mind with bright, powdery colours, savoury smells and a lovely, still calmness.

Once I’m in my kitchen, I become the conductor of all these colours, smells and flavours in my mind. With the ingredients laid out in front of me, I’m suddenly in control. No more meeting the demands of others. No more fear of screwing up, or not doing my job well enough. Something truly wonderful is about to happen. In about an hour’s time, I will emerge from my kitchen-fort with a dish worth writing home about. I just know this. And nothing or no-one is going to interfere.

(You can see why cooking is just as addictive as eating.)

I much prefer cooking to baking. Baking is fun and always makes me feel like a kid again, except that now if I want brownies I don't have to ask for permission to get flour all over the kitchen counter. And if I feel like brownies at 10pm, that’s okay, too. My kitchen. My rules. It’s just that baking is a science, and well, I’m not that good at science (or math). My brownies, delicious as they are, always stick to the pan, and my cakes and cupcakes always fall flat.

Cooking, on the other hand, allows for as much freedom of expression as art does. In a world where so much can go wrong (at work, on the road, in relationships), there’s very little that can go wrong with cooking. You don’t even really have to know which flavours go together. You just have to know which flavours you like.

My high school drama teacher once said if you can talk properly, you can sing. I say if you know how to chop an onion without losing a finger, you can cook.

Cooking gives me an immense sense that, although all is not well in the world right now, it will be some day. It’s a sensation that feels strangely true, if only for an hour or so. It all seems so simple: just put everything together and enjoy.

The best part, however, remains eating what you've created. Let me be so boastful as to say that very few regrettable dishes have come out of my oven. The only regret I have is that there is only one first bite on every plate. There is only one moment, between smelling and tasting, where you’re not quite sure what to expect. There is only one moment where that first bite hits your tongue and your mouth runs over with new flavours and the ever-present disbelief that I made that.

Every meal is of course followed by a treat. This is the one part of my food addiction that slightly worries me. I’m pretty sure that if you had something chocolatey enough on you, you could swindle me out of my car keys. I’ll show you where I parked and everything.

(It suddenly dawned on me that Switzerland might be a very dangerous place to visit.)

I don’t understand the handful of people I know, who are “just not into” chocolate. For goodness sake, Theobroma, the Greek word for cocao tree, literally means “food of the gods”, and you’re just flat-out not into it? I appreciate having these people with all their uneaten chocolate in my life (more for me), but I will always remain slightly suspicious of them.

“Not into chocolate.” Seriously.

It’s not just chocolate that threatens my blood sugar levels. The world is riddled with bakeries and pastry shops, selling fresh, warm cookies with gooey centres, pretty cupcakes with sweet, buttery icing, almond croissants, baked cheesecakes with crumbly crusts and dark chocolate cakes with creamy ganache filling.

That’s five great reasons to love life, right there. And it’s only a small sample.

Forget the more decadent things for a second. Sometimes, the most satisfying meal is the simplest of meals. I adore a slice of fresh, warm bread lathered with butter, or a bowl of Milo cereal after endless mornings of nothing but All-Bran. I love baked beans on toast, and one of my favourite post-lunch treats is a spoonful of peanut butter.

I think it’s because every little bite we consume contains a reminder from the Head Chef of it all that life is meant to be enjoyed. So grab a spoon, a fork, a knife. Better yet, eat with your hands and get it all over your face. Cook. Bake. Eat. Live.

Yes, I am a food addict.

I pity anyone who is not.