Eating

 

I sat down to a meal of fried chicken in a soul food restaurant in Montgomery, Alabama. Despite the stares of other patrons I was totally ready to tuck into mac and cheese, collards and pecan pie along with that beautiful chicken.

I picked it up in my fingers and, in that moment, it struck me how lovely it is to eat with your hands.

On any given Friday night we tear a challah with our fingers and disregarding germs pass the pieces from hand to hand, sharing the taste of Shabbat and each others’ fingers.

I recently ate a bowl of steamed mussels, aromatic with tomato, garlic and sherry. With it some toasted crunchy French bread. I tried to start with a fork, hoping to appear more ladylike, but no. They deserved to be eaten with fingers, crunchy bread soaking up the “soup” in the dish. And then you have to lick your fingers, all pretense of ladylike abandoned in the moment.

There is a sensuality to food eaten mindfully, savored. It is even better with good conversation or music, eaten slowly between paragraphs. But it is most viscerally sensual when eaten with your fingers, no intervening metal. And if you… Click To Tweet

There is a sensuality to food eaten mindfully, savored. It is even better with good conversation or music, eaten slowly between paragraphs. But it is most viscerally sensual when eaten with your fingers, no intervening metal. And if you can, get someone else to lick your fingers.

Author: Trienah Meyers

I am a singer, a writer, a mother, a teacher. I am learning to live life differently at this new stage of life. Adventures, food, music, books, friends, religion. Everything is interesting. Everything old is new again. I am also available to write blog posts for your business, your monthly newsletters, your speeches. Proofreading and copy editing also available.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *