Hungry

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This morning's breakfast consisted of a fried egg dusted with smoked paprika and a slice of sourdough toast with real butter. For lunch yesterday, I sliced up a piece of pita bread, brushed it with olive oil, sprinkled on some greek seasoning and baked it into pita chips which I ate with two heaping spoonfulls of roasted-tomato hummus. It amazes me that I can get un- hungry from so little.

My Go-To snacks are wasabi peas and popcorn with brewer's yeast, but I pick up one of those super-sized Hershey's Dark Chocolate bars every month and keep it in the kitchen drawer, eating it one square at a time when I get a craving for the sweet stuff. I'm the last person in the world who ever thought I'd eat like this. Simply. Moderately.

I was a weird little kid when it came to food.

When no one else was around, I'd stand in front of the open refrigerator and squeeze ketchup straight into my mouth. I'd also eat powdered sugar by the spoonful, careful not to inhale with a mouthful which can cause you to choke on sugar dust. I ate my cereal dry because I loathed milk. For one whole summer, I made sugar cookie dough once a week and hid it under my bed so I could eat it by the spoonful in the night. I drank Italian dressing straight from the bottle, and had massively-loaded baked potatoes for breakfast every school day for three years. My mother took to hiding chocolate chips and a variety of other snack foods in the trunk of her car because I'd gorge myself on them if I had the chance. When we spent weekends at my dad's place, I would get up in the night, sneak into the kitchen and polish off the Twinkies my step-monster was saving for his lunches. Campbell's condensed Vegetarian Vegetable soup, cold and straight from the can was sheer joy. Like I said, I was a weird little kid and I was ravenous all the time.

As a young adult, I ate fast food constantly and as a young mother, I threw Hamburger Helper or over-baked chicken and Rice-a-Roni on the table and called it a day. We ate more pizza and wet-dishrag hamburgers in those days than I care to admit. Then, at the age of 30, I moved to the coast and a whole world of tasty treats greeted me. Indian Cuisine. Real boiled bagels. Greek lamb kabobs dipped in Tikizi. Vegetables cooked by vegetarians. Organic fruit grown by local farmers. Homemade tamales. Edamame, hummus and goat's cheese. Thai curries and tempura. Potato, chorizo and egg burritos. Prosciutto, marinated artichoke hearts and Samosas. I was ravenous all over again. This time however, I didn't need to stuff myself to be satisfied. The variety of taste and SweetBabyJesus the flavors were amazing. I discovered that less is more if you've got the right stuff.

That's it, I guess. Not much of a story, but there it is. I used to be a weird little kid with some kind of undiagnosed eating disorder and now, well I'm just a Foodie. Sometimes I write about food and post recipes on occasion under the Feed Me category. Also, the book “Women Who Eat” has some great stories and essays from a fistful of badass writers. You should check that out too. It's time for my morning snack now; fresh blackberries with a splash of cream.

[This post was originally published at Sweet Banana Ink which celebrates writers and the written word.]

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