Meat Reflections

I was noticing my eating patterns as I was in Maryland, noting how much I ate, etc. And I had some interesting thoughts, and thought this was a good place to share.

I ate a ton of food. I ate a lot of meat...a lot a lot. My dad took me to Fogo de Chao, and I just kept eating and eating. The odd thing was I didn't get totally sickly stuffed. Like, I got pretty stuffed, but I didn't feel like - "oh my gosh why did I do this to myself" stuffed, which is odd considering really how much I ate. Also it was delicious. My two favorite things were the filet minion's wrapped in bacon, and the Parmesan pork roast. Yum. Yum.

The night before, I ate almost an entire rack of ribs, and the next day I ate other food and still ate some chicken, and the next day, I could feel myself still not being over being full, and I ate 1.5 pork chops. It was an odd sensation, because I didn't just eat because I it tasted so good - I felt compelled to eat it. Like, before I moved here, I mentally thought that I should, you know, stock up on meat, enjoy it while I could. But it was different. There, I felt compelled to eat it. Like my body was like - store it up - you need it - eat it all.

I've never really experienced such a thing before, but the context it made sense to me is the urge to feast before famine comes. Like in the old days, when they would go hunting, and like even if they still might be full from the last two days of having meat, they still eat it, because their bodies know that a week from then, a month from then, they may still have to be living on that meat.

And so with that, I have returned to my famine.