Day 66: The Food Network

So, for some reason lately, I have had a little extra time on my hands.  Usually, I will pick up a book or get a little extra sleep, but the last week or so I have watched a little television.  This is not a usual activity for me or for my wife Emily (we have a few shows we regularly watch, but otherwise we just don't watch television that much).  The big problem with television is that the only time I can actually watch it is between about 9:45 and 11:00.  Since I have to get up early in the morning, it is ALWAYS a bad idea for me to watch television at all.

Anyway, regardless of needing the sleep, I have found myself watching television.  Since half of the stuff on TV these days is really no good, I have to be pretty selective about the programming I watch.  Last night, I was watching a little TV after I got the kids down (Emily and Mia were at the church for activities, and I was home alone with the younger two girls).  I was watching this great show, which I had never seen before, called Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives.  This episode focused on Kansas City BBQ. It was totally awesome!

Man, there are some amazing BBQ places in KC.  I mean, I know that everyone knows about KC BBQ, but these places were ridiculously good.  I could practically taste the food through the television.  There was this one place that fire roasted a chicken, and then--just to make it crispy--threw it in a deep fryer for five minutes after it was cooked.  I know that sounds a little gross, but according to the host of Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives Guy Fieri, it was very good.

As I sat there, my mouth watering, Emily arrived home and came down stairs.  She took a look at the TV and said "You're not doing this again, are you?"

Puzzled, I said, "Doing what?"

"Watching the Food Network"

"What do you mean?"

"You have been watching the Food Network constantly lately."

"I have?"

"Yes.  Don't you remember?  You watched that Bobby Flay throw-down thing about turkeys the other day, the Iron Chef America holiday battle, that french cooking show, and the show on chocolate.  Don't you remember that show about the massive sized food people make--you know, with that guy that you can't stand?"

As I thought about it, I realized Emily was right.  I mean, I didn't realize it at the time, but I have been spending a larger proportion of my time focused on food, mainly because I have been watching the Food Network.  I have also noticed myself collecting recipes from these shows, which are usually available from their websites after the program runs.  As I look around, I have a stack of recipes for things like "Belge-Ette De Veau" (this is from the French cooking show I watched--why would I ever want to eat something I can't pronounce?), "Slow Baked Honey Wine Pears" (don't ask why I would have a recipe for something that has wine in it, as I do not drink wine--and no, according to the show I watched, the wine does not "burn off"), and various chocolate concoctions including a mousse, a cake, and several hot chocolates.

Of course, none of these things are compliant with the new lifestyle, so all I can do is just sit here and look at them, imagining what they would taste like.  It reminded me of my grandmother, who was an avid collector of recipes.  Near the end of her life, as she was dying of cancer, she became almost obsessed with recipe collection.  I always thought that this was sad, because she had had so much radiation that her digestive tract simply didn't function anymore.  The extent of her diet near the end was red meat, everything else made her sick.

At her funeral, my uncle spoke and talked about going through her home and finding recipes everywhere.  One of them, still sitting on the TV tray next to her chair, was for some kind of chicken dish that require the use of a very large Dutch oven.  The thought of my 90 pound grandmother outside stoking the coals over a 40 pound Dutch oven (which she did not own at the time) was quite amusing.  But as I have thought about it, I am just now realizing that she was writing these recipes down not because she actually thought she would be making them (though knowing my grandmother, it probably is what she wanted to think!).  I think she was writing them down because she was dreaming, wishing for those days that should could eat those foods.


For my grandmother, cooking was something she did exclusively as a way to show she loved us.  I remember being hurt as a child and her response was a band-aid and a treat (no wonder I am fat).  I remember also speaking at my grandmother's funeral, and lamenting the many times I did not give her the chance to cook for me.  Of course, I thought I was being helpful, telling her to rest or not to work hard as she "recovered" from her cancer, but I have always feared she actually thought I was somehow rejecting her love, rejecting the one thing she thought she could do to show me that she loved me.  


Anyway, I suppose that now, I am in the same situation she was--though obviously not quite as dire.  I watch these shows, write down the recipes, dream about eating them--not because I ever actually anticipate making something that takes five hour, or requires a bouquet garni or cremini or creme fraiche, but because I enjoy thinking about having them, dreaming about having them. 


In the end, it is just food.  It is not that important whether I eat these foods or not.  What is important, though, is to have dreams.  And though I seem, subconsciously, to be dreaming about food, in reality, I dream about being a better person, about being a healthier person.  Thank you to everyone for the encouraging words this week.  It has been hard, but I am back on the wagon and excited to finish this diet out strong over the next few weeks.  I hope you all know that I really could not be doing this without your support!