love tastes like figs

First, camera phones don't take the best pictures in all the world, but I think the basic gist is here:(broiled) figs, (rosemary-infused) honey, (vanilla) ice cream. And why on earth would I put this picture here?

Because I'm not into suffering. I'm not into pondering every single detail of my day with my punitive alter-ego lashing me for my mistakes. I'm not into obsessing over everything I put into my mouth, into going over it again and again, into feeling like a failure for a slip up or that I need to get serious (and a little strict) with myself if I'm human and make the old mistakes. I am into striking the balance between health/nutrition and maintaining my weight. I still want to have friends over for dinner, to experience food at the peak of its season, to git jiggy wid my culinary mind, to experiment a little, hell, I even want to (gasp!) indulge.

For me, this is a picture of abundance and celebration and not going the way of excess. It's a picture of integrating what I have (in season, in the house, in my heart) with an occasion, and not feeling neurotic, or that I've messed up, or that I'm out of control. It's just a little something (x4) that I could have had more of, but didn't. And that was the case for the entire meal. Good stuff in fair quantity, mindfully and carefully made, with love. Because for me, it's love I wanna stick in my mouth, and it always has been. I'm just now learning to actually taste it...