I am sick. Nothing major, just one of those times when that little tickle in the back of your throat wins. I was on cup of tea and bad television hour number 17 or so when my appetite started to make a comeback. You know what I didn't want? A bacon wrapped cheese dog. In fact, I don't think I've ever heard of someone just getting over the flu wanting a bacon wrapped cheese dog. There was no desire for a 7 topping pizza, or anything with a slab of foie. I didn't want a cupcake, or an assortment of fruits and snacks to dip in warm salted caramel.
That last one may be starting to sound okay, though.
The point is, I wanted vegetables, broth, bread. Maybe a little cheese or perhaps an egg. Rice would be ok. Pasta would be fine, as long as the vegetables and the broth were there, too. How much better would I feel, all the time, if I ate like I was just starting to feel better? How much better would we all be if we ate like we were trying to get the vitamins in, where food was sustaining and a tonic and a reminder that we'd feel better, and with any luck we'd feel better soon? Sometimes I wonder if we've all just played a giant trick on ourselves with our cravings.
The thing is, next week, I may be having that bacon cheese dog. I don't know all the answers to the best way to eat food, even when I know a lot of really excellent answers on how to prepare it. It is continually surprising to me just how vast, varied, and individual our needs for food are, and how lost each and every one of us is when it comes to the best way to eat to feel good in our own skin.
For now, I think it's good if I stick with soup.