Foodies

I've been reading a lot of Ruth Reichl. Probably not a good thing to do when you are trying to diet (as I always am!) because she is the former restaurant critic for the NY Times (as well as editor of Gourmet magazine). Her biographies (the two I have read)--"Comfort Me with Apples" and "Garlic and Sapphires" are great reads...funny, informative glimpses into a world I will never inhabit. Oh, and recipes are included! I highly recommend her books and her recipes--only, read with care when dieting.

During my mammoth gastro-reading of her works, I have come to ponder the term "foodie". Ruth Reichl is definitely a foodie (not a snobby foodie, but definitely a foodie). A foodie eats lots of things I couldn't imagine using to catch other things I might possibly consider eating. All cooked by fabulous chefs and served in elegant settings. Or a foodie eats local food after quick jaunts to say, Bangkok, or Barcelona. I've been to Bangkok, and other towns in Spain---and Indonesia, Singapore, Japan, Iran, --you name it. I just kept waiting for the chapter on um, "tummy upsets". Because let me tell you, the sate that smells so good from a street vendor in Jakarta will often be your worst enemy for the next month. But Ruth made it all sound wonderful and mouth-watering in a "you had to be there" way.

As I pondered the "f-word", and brought it down to my level (ie, no slugs for lunch--no matter what sort of garlic butter sauce they are poached in)--I realized I am a foodie. And here's why. In my own way, I really will eat anything. I thought it was because I was a fattie, but now I feel better realizing that in fact, I am a foodie.

Oprah Winfrey once confessed that during her darkest days of weight struggles, she came home from work and couldn't find anything sweet in the house. Desperate, she pulled out a frozen hot dog bun, barely thawed it, and poured pancake syrup on it. She NEEDED that. She told that story to the horror of a studio audience while I thought, "Hmmm, sounds good. Might have to try that someday".

I also have cleaned out my house. There is nothing chocolate to be found. There are no sodas. There is barely any sweetened cereal (and I'm working on that). Ruth Reichl found herself in a similar situation in Paris. She was undaunted (her words follow):

"I woke up ravenous and went to explore the tiny Parisian kitchen. The refrigerator was a little box beneath a marble counter, but when I opened it, I found bottled water, a few gnarled apples that looked like windfalls, a package of butter, a wedge of Chaource, and three bottles of Pouilly-Fume. Two cracked blue bowls held brown eggs and walnuts, still in the shell. An ancient heel of bread sat on the counter, surrounded by bowls of spices, olive oil, vinegar and a couple of bottles of vin ordinaire. This would certainly do."
(From "Comfort Me with Apples, Ruth Reichl, Copyright 2001).

Then she went on to describe her fabulous omelet, her thinly sliced toasted bread and cheese, her wine, her bath in the immense clawfoot tub.

Here is the herewegoagain version of being a foodie. I went to the cupboard, looking for chocolate (of course), and found none. I did, however, find some ancient chalupa shells (two). I grated old cheddar cheese on them and popped them in the microwave. I followed this delight by scavenging deep in my pantry and unearthing a real treasure. Forget your Pouilly-Fume--I found packet of jelly beans! They had been there since Easter (this is October after all)--but jelly beans will keep until the next millennium. Therefore, I followed my old-chalupa meal with a divine dessert of six-month old junky candy. This was all washed down with hot tea. And all the sugar and cream I could pour into it.

If a foodie loves food, loves all kinds of food, then count me in. I didn't become a fattie by shunning frozen hot dog buns drenched in syrup. I was a foodie first. And, by the way, Ruth Reichl is thin. That might take her off the foodie list permanently, no matter how many black truffles she eats.