Happy Monday my little cassoulets, how’s every little thing?
Me? I’m peachy. Got some new tango shoes, went to church, went to the gay bar after church (doesn’t everyone?) to watch Obama’s Bin Laden speech, the import of which was only slightly marred by having an extremely…floppy….male stripper who had Seen Better Days give some guy in front of me a neck massage which was, uh, less than inspiring. I mean let freedom ring and everything but let’s try to keep the stripper grease out of my mimosa.
If you haven’t read Twistie’s post from yesterday, do it.
Now full disclosure time: I’m biased. I’m a slow eater. That whole chew thirty-two times thing? I’m like fifty, on a good day, and that’s IF I don’t get distracted by a bit of shiny glass or a piece of string, which I always do because –and I feel I can reveal this to you now– I’m pretty much a brain-damaged magpie with surprisingly facile typing skills.
I know that makes everyone hate me and I’m no fun at dinner parties and blah blah are-you-gonna-finish-that blah, so my admonition to take your time and savor what you eat is partially good advice and partially so I can finish my damn shrimp cocktail before everyone’s moved on to dessert.
My grandfather used to tell a story about how he watched Orson Welles eating lunch alone at the Raffles Hotel in Singapore one day. He –Welles, not my grandfather– ordered an enormous meal and ate it all by his lonesome, not speaking to anyone.
I remember the slight note of scandal in my grandfather’s voice when he would tell the story. When it came to food, my grandfather was a bolter. He loved his food, but I don’t think I ever saw him savor a single mouthful. Dinner was on the table at 6:00 p.m. and he was firmly ensconced in the living room with a bowl of ice cream and/or a cigar by 6:30 for the Nightly Business Report.
Most of us are bolters now, I think, and I wonder if big girls aren’t more prone to it because –at least in public– the act of Eating While Fat is somehow shameful, embarrassing and best to be done quickly.
It’s just an idea, but I’d be interested to hear what you think. Do you bolt your food? If so, why? What about eating in public?