canvas Dropcloth

In the May 2008 issue of canvas magazine, writer Elyce Neuhauser’s thought-provoking article entitled “Conscious Consumption” has had a particularly strong impact on my relationship with food.

Food is a subject that borders on obsession with me, and from the proliferation of cookbooks, culinary magazines and newsletters, and cooking shows (not to mention an entire network) that exist, I know I’m not alone. We foodies are everywhere—virtually all regions and cultures share a common interest in what we consume, and have put their own spin on creating concoctions out of essentially the same general categories of ingredients. There is an unmatched level of pride and personal identity attached to food, which interestingly is a common thread spanning the globe throughout history. Food defines us, whether it’s what we cook, or what we choose to eat.

I spend an inordinate amount of time obsessing about food: cooking, eating, reading and writing about it, watching it being prepared (I can’t get enough of Giada or the Barefoot Contessa and yes, I’ll admit that while reality TV is not usually my cup of tea, I’m hooked on Top Chef, too). Dinner is a main topic of conversation with my husband, and when we are eating we tend to talk about what the next meal will be. Add the fact that my brother is a chef to the mix, and you can imagine what my conversations with him revolve around, too.

But despite all this attention I pay to this humble subject, Elyce’s article shed new light onto my fixation: how often do I really savor each bite? Focus on the flavors, textures, aromas, colors of what I’m eating? Truth be told, unless it’s a particularly delicious dark chocolate truffle—which I’ve always eaten in tiny bites, letting each one melt on my tongue until fully dissolved—I really don’t pay as much attention to my food while consuming it as I do thinking about it the rest of the day. So thanks to her, I’m actually taking more time to enjoy what I’m eating. Just now, for example, while writing this blog, between sentences I’ve been sipping a particularly delicious cup of Darjeeling tea, forcing myself to stop and really taste it rather than simply swigging it while I type. It starts off flowery, then gets deeper and stronger as it passes over my palate, then has a lingering finish that leaves such a pleasant, delicate herbal flavor behind.

Have you ever noticed that no two cups of tea taste exactly the same? Or have you ever wondered, as I have, about how we all can follow the same exact Toll House cookie recipe and no two person’s version ever tastes the same?

Do you obsess about these things, too? We’d love to know what your relationship with food is. Do you eat simply to put hunger at bay, or take time to plan your meal, and truly focus on it while you eat it? We want to know! Please post your comments below.

-Diana Murphy, canvas editor in chief