Bittersweet
It tastes like chicken.. this tongue in cheek cliche is often used to describe the flavor of a food we’ve never had before, i.e.rattlesnake tastes like chicken, alligator meat tastes like chicken, or even this dessert tastes like chicken. We chuckle at the absurdity of this description. I want to taste the difference between the foods I eat. My piece of candy should taste different than steak or “chicken”. The taste of something is a critical way that we can distinguish between foods and spices and decide what tastes good and what we want to spit out. My palate, my sense of taste is unique to me. Not everyone loves olives like I do.
Along with my other senses, my sense of taste is one of the ways I use to orient myself in this world What does my life taste like? I loved orange pop as a kid, until I ate too many hotdogs and washed them down with several orange pops. I suffered a severe stomach ache until I vomited it all up. To this day I hate orange drinks, but luckily I did recover my desire and taste for hot dogs! Remember that god-awful lemon flavored bottle of magnesium citrate we used to drink in colonoscopy prep? Even today, any smell resembling it reminds me of how awful it tasted and I’m instantly nauseous. In both of these cases,life tasted pretty awful, and avoidance was my response. When my life circumstances leave a bad taste, avoidance is not always my response. I can hold my nose and keep coming back in pursuit of outcomes I have no control over. Maybe orange soda will now taste ok. It won’t.
My life tastes like birthday cakes and weddings, my own and many others. It tastes like all the booze I drank to “have fun” or “forget.” I only tasted the first few bites when I went on a binge, the more food I shoveled in the more it tasted like cardboard. I’m not sure if I’ve ever tasted cardboard, but it’s kind of like the “It tastes like chicken” metaphor! I’ve consumed hundreds of Brachs Butterscotch hard candies. They were that little sweet taste sensation that I used to help me feel less hungry and not deprived. They remind me of a time in my life when I was trying to get others to change because they loved me so much! The candy was under my control, I was in charge. Real life was a whole other story. I love ice cream because it tastes so good and because my father loved ice cream. We had it in the freezer at all times when I was growing up. With soft serve, the bigger the cone the better. Dad’s cone was Mount Everest. Soft serve is like my security blanket, and I’ll find it in every town I’m in. When I’m home in Iowa, I always look forward to my soft serve from the cart by the trail. A big part of this experience is being with family members who are all relishing their own cones. My sense of taste is a big part of my life history.
Mom always said “Your eyes are bigger than your stomach.” or “Don’t bite off more than you can chew.” The serving size at restaurants are huge. When I see the plate that’s set in front of me I’m sure I’ll eat every last morsel , but my stomach may disagree. As I’ve gotten older, I quit eating before I’m stuffed. Sometimes I order off the menu to get just what I want to taste, no more no less. If I can, I go for sweet and savory foods. I want both tastes on on my plate. I try to restrain myself to take small bites of my food and my life. More is not always better
Life should not be a bitter pill to swallow. Winnie the Pooh knew that “The only reason to make honey would be so I can eat it.” Would you rather be called “sweetheart” or “sourpuss”?
