Many of the analogies I use in my writing revolve around food. One could say that I am literary foodie. Words, like ingredients, can be combined in all kinds of interesting ways to bring out unique flavors. Have you ever tried adding oregano to adverbs? Because I have, and let me tell you that it is to die for. Always remember to season your sentences before you send them out. Balance your paragraphs with the right amount of acidity. You may surprise yourself with the concoctions you create.
But the actual food I put into my body isn’t quite as sophisticated. On a digestive level I am a pragmatist, favoring function over form. When I was a child, every meal was cooked for me by my mom. When I was at college I ate what was readily available in the dining halls. Now that I don’t have either of these luxuries, my criteria for food has narrowed down to three things. Quick, tasty and cheap. Oftentimes that means frozen foods. Fries, potato wedges, pizza slices. Cooked, freeze-dried, and shipped straight into my stomach.
This is fine when the only person I am feeding is myself. My organs are youthful and my metabolism is still high (enough). However, I’ve recently been tasked to contribute around the house. My parents finally knocked on my bedroom door to tell me that if I was going to live at home I had to pitch in. I knew what that meant. Chores. This week was my turn to buy groceries and cook. The frozen food aisle wasn’t going to cut it.
I go to my local supermarket, grab a trolley, and walk. Just walk. I figure I can wing it. Right? After all, I talk about food all the time. Salt your sentences, pepper your clauses, roast until tender…uh-oh maybe I’d made a mistake…
Breakfast
Bobble heads, talking parrots, chocolate vampires and monkeys. These are the spiritual figureheads of an entire generation’s breakfast. I pass the Coco-Puffs, the Fruit-Loops, and a couple more hyphenated cereals that call out to me in the breakfast aisle. Whoever decided to package them all in bright fluorescent boxes is a marketing genius. Picking one is like picking which ride to go on at your favorite amusement park.
As I put a box of Frosted-Flakes back onto the shelf I realize that I’ve never seen my parents go near these confectionary cereals. These weren’t the breakfasts of people with full-time jobs. They were the sugar-filled meals of children. I try to remember what my parents usually ate in the morning. Black coffee. Toast. Oatmeal.
I’ve heard people describe oatmeal religiously. They swear that it has some magical properties that when digested makes them feel 300% better. I’m not entirely sure where they get this figure from but I wonder if the gelatinous lumps are the glue of the workforce. Because when I eat it later I am converted. Slow-releasing carbs that keep my mind focussed throughout the day? Buy it. Store it. Forget about it. Eat it everyday.
Lunch
Next up, I check out the canned food section. Can I get a hell yeah for tuna and rice? Chunky brine mashed in with fluffy white grains. Tin can to mouth in under 30 seconds.
“We’re not eating that,” my mother says. “It looks like it was vomited up by a cow.”
Perhaps she had a point. Slopping tuna and rice together is pretty much the laziest combination of ingredients that mankind has ever come up with. I bet Julius Caesar just threw it together one day when he was too busy crossing the Rubicon, to cook a proper meal.
There is a spread called ‘hummus’ which I’ve heard can be good for you in the right quantities. I pick up some chicken breast, lettuce, tomatoes, and a cucumber. Wheat bread instead of white. It looks the ingredients of a subway ad. Which is a good thing I guess.
Dinner
It nearly breaks my heart to turn my back on the frozen foods section. All those tasty meals with the bright pictures on the plastic bags. I know they’re misleading. The food inside never turns out as good as the pictures. Those lovely pictures. But god do I miss the crunch of artificial fries.
“As long as it has a protein, vegetable, and a carb then you’re fine.”
I decide to make casserole. This was the kind of dish I heard adults go on about. “Financial year…amortized spending…yada yada yada..lamb casserole for dinner…” Casserole this, casserole that. I pick up some beef, carrots, and pasta. There, nutritional criteria met. And with a little basil sauce, not too shabby.
As our ages increase so must the quality of our taste palate. Sure we can be lazy and treat ourselves like human automobiles, guzzling fuel for the sake of combustion. But food can be quite extraordinary if you put even a little bit of thought into it. It can be tasty, nuanced, and make you feel good about yourself. Scratch that. It can make you feel exquisite (bon appetit!). I just hope my actual palate can catch up with my literary one.
Daily Adulting is a self-help humor blog written by Leon Wu. He documents his thoughts and experiences about growing up, while taking a break from life and moving back in with his parents. Subscribe to follow his (hopefully) uplifting journey.
