Cooking, Food and I

Right up to only just a couple of months ago, it never occurred once to me that :

I mean, I am a SAHM. I cook everyday. Once in a while, I whip up interesting dishes. And I enjoy cooking up a storm during Chinese New Year. Every SAHM cooks and loves to cook! I mean, Who doesn't love food?

But, not me.

I suspect it has to do with my Dear's poker face with whatever he puts into his mouth. I have never seen or heard him sigh with contentment after eating anything. Sian right?

After 10 years of being married to a man like this, my last love for food or cooking has smouldered out. Zilch.


It's worthy of a blog post because it is such a big thing and being a very self conscious person, I never realised this until recently.

I see people blog and post on facebook about what they cook and sometimes think what's all the fuss about? I do enjoy the visual feast, but it ends at the eyes. I have little interest to do a same one or taste it. Unlike if I see a pretty fabric pouch I wish I can make one.

Plus this illness that dictates that I eat healthy food (read : tasteless) food, my appetite has gone to the dumps. I still love to look at cheesy, sinful items on a menu but I always end up with the most uninteresting and bland items.

Today, I brought Meimei to MacDonald's and walloped down a McSpicy. The expected SHIOKNESS never happened.  Instead, halfway into the burger, I lamented at its saltiness. Yikes.

There is a disconnection between my perceived previously BIG appetite and love for food and cooking from the actual thing. My taste has grown all bland and the interest for food wilted.
   
In Buddhism, you are suppose to be free of wants and needs and desire..( I dunno for what lah). But I often wonder, when you become not interested in the swing of things that is life, what life is there for one to live anymore? 

No, I am not depressed. But I certainly hope I can enjoy food and am allowed by health to do so again.... later.