Gourmand Syndrome
A heady affair
"There is no love more sincere than the love of food." - George Bernard Shaw
“Okay, your turn,” they said, as about a dozen pairs of eyes slid in my direction. “Tell us about yourself.” I have never been comfortable talking about myself; I blush bright red when the attention is turned on me, and I mean bright apple red, whether addressing a roomful of grade school children or speaking to an audience of food writing colleagues. Or giving an interview online. My teeth chatter and my hands shake. But there I was, the center of attention, albeit for just a brief minute or two, having to introduce myself to the members of a Business Club that my husband had then belonged to. Dinner with the Spouses Night. And I knew that there was slim chance that they - traditional, conventional French - would ever understand me - rebellious, unconventional, odd American.
“Well,” I hesitated, not quite knowing how to explain where I was at that point in my life. “I’ve done a lot of things, had lots of careers.” I stumbled through in French. “Now I stay at home, moral support for a hard-working husband. And I’ve started writing a book.”
“Ah, a book! About what?”
Ummm… (my eyes flicking from one face to the next, cheeks burning)
“About food. About my relationship with food.”
“Is it a love-hate relationship?” someone asks, imagining, I am sure, a skinny woman battling body image.
“No, just love,” my husband jumps in. “Definitely just love.”