Our senses, physical and otherwise, make us feel alive, grant pleasure, and no doubt increase our hunger for taste, touch, smell, sight and sound, and more senses besides. They all overlap.
Try, as I did once with my ex-husband, to go on a weekly fast. You may, like us, get your hunger satiated by the sweet torment of smelling and looking at food on market stalls or in shop windows.
A dear friend of mine, who recently visited, relishes taste. How does one describe taste in our taste-filled world? I challenged my friend to find words to evoke the recent meal I served. Here then a leap of the imagination back to the event – an excerpt:
… the small, round boiled new potatoes were the sweet, starchy berries of the earth. Their light brown skins stretched enticingly over the creamy white fruit within. The asparagus, almost luminescent green, redolent of a waving forest of green marine plants viewed through the warm clear waters of a tropical island bay, fresh and tender in the soft embrace of the mouth and chewy enough for the teeth to relish their work of liberating the cacophony of nourishing juices over the vibrant, aroused tongue.
The salmon, its raw fishiness tamed by gentle heat in the company of thin slices of lime, into a piquancy which thrashed around the palette like wild seas. And, the final trigger to culinary orgasm, a tangy, herby sauce, which pulled the palette this way and that, like stretching a rubber band, taking it for moments into the realms of sublimity.
I remarked, ‘You could’ve become a restaurant entrepreneur or a food taster.’
During gatherings of friends, we love sharing stories as well as food delicacies … the displays and the bouquet of flavours wafting on the air on such occasions may well attract hungry ancestors, grateful for such feasts.
My mythic adventure novel, ‘Course of Mirrors,’ has sections depicting sensual experiences, which is why a re-read, while tuning into editing the sequel, ‘Shapers,’ is a pleasure. My childhood must have served as inspiration, encapsulated in my village poem.
If you relish taste, you may like ‘The Last Banquet’ by Jonathan Grimwood – a feast for the senses, if a little decadent. Here is my review of the book on Goodreads in 2014
With the waves of depressing news around the globe, I thought I’d cheer up my readers, and myself.
Course of Mirrors 
How did you know I’ve been thinking of food?
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just knew 🙂
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Thanks for this…At the ripe age of 70 I have been reflecting on the many things I eat now that I never touched when younger. I was a late bloomer in the world of food. I remember eating my first salad and where I was and with whom.
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Thanks for visiting. Our tastes vary over time, but to plan and prepare a meal for oneself and others is a beautiful kind of meditation.
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Food glorious food.
I’m reminded of that cartoon dog. When fed a pleasurable titbit, it was enraptured by the taste to such a degree as to convulse and shudder without any consideration of personal dignity.
It was funny to watch and delightful to anticipate.
Cheers B
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Awesome ecstasy.
For some reason this reminds me of a time when sweet treats were still displayed at supermarket checkouts. For some kids the frustrated temptation while waiting in line resulted in violent temper tantrums. If a mother chose such occasion to admonish greed, kids would few fling themselves flat and beat the ground.
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Terrific review on good reads and an interesting post, Ashen! I love your friend’s description of the meal … and even though it is only breakfast I felt myself yearning for some of the food! Good luck with the edits of your latest book! 😀
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Thank you, Annika. I’m pleased you like the review of J Grimwood’s book on Goodreads. And my friend will be pleased that his words can inspire taste buds.
My editing of ‘Shapers’ is proceeding at a slow pace, while being distracted and disheartened by the depressing politics round the globe.
I’m however cheered and encouraged by the positive feedback from my beta-readers/editors.
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Distracted, disheartened, depressing, sums up my mood too about the world events … I keep up to date what is happening here in the UK and my spirits slips even lower before forcing it aside to enjoy life, family, books and writing again. It just beggars belief what is happening and patience is wearing thin.
Congratulations to your friend … I’ve just read a little about him on Goodreads and he sounds like an amazing writer, journalist and is very well travelled.
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Yes, for me Brexasperation is the word. I wrote about it, on and off on this site.
BTW – my friend is not J Grimwood, the author of the book I reviewed. I guess my friend would be flattered 🙂 He just has a way with words, especially when it comes to food, which I shared here 🙂
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Very cheering and a little tantalising. I do like food descriptions, and you’ve provided some vivid ones. I’m also intrigued by your review of The Last Banquet. What a fascinating premise for a novel.
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Glad the post cheered, Cath. Re: ‘The Last Banquet,’ I hadn’t expected the book to be such fun to read, surreal and yet very humane and full of tenderness.
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Nice to revisit of your village poem Ashen.
I don’t think villages are anything like they were. When I was a kid in Suffolk I remember farriers, harness and saddle makers, one or two elderly men who drove clip-clopping horses and carts, wore battered old hats and bright coloured neckerchiefs and shouted raucous greetings as they passed, poachers on bikes with a couple of birds dangling, a police constable cycling up a steep hill who seemed to proceed with his brakes full on, a one-armed postman who quite shamelessly read everyone’s postcards, chimney sweeps and us covering up the furniture when they came, neighbours who kept pigs, sheep and cattle being driven through the square en-route to the little railway station, village idiots who were an integral weft in the canvass, a butcher chopping up joints as his fag ash and the dew drop, on the end of his big, red, stevedore’s hook of a nose, drifted and glooped down onto the meat, my mother sending me to the grocer to cancel the weekly order where, I innocently let slip that she’d discovered finger prints on the cheddar cheese, and their look of what must have been, at least partly, feigned incredulity at the disclosure, the hunt meeting outside the main pub in the square and the resplendent hunt master knocking back a tumbler of whiskey as he sat upon his white charger among the fussing hounds…..
This and much, much more fading fast as the 60’s became the 70’s and even us peasants started to buy our own houses and cars and used them to drive 20 miles to the supermarket and even sometimes paid the paperboy with a cheque….I was personally a recipient of such innovative novelty.
As always we have more than likely lost at least as much as much as we have gained. But some where all that has passed still lives.
Rob
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There’s a brilliant tale. Our villages sure live on …
Thanks, Rob for sharing this lucid time capsule.
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Until recently, I spent about three years fasting 24 hours once a week. It did wonders for my health (and weight). Like a reset button once a week. Perhaps I’ll take it up again.
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I admire such resolve. Many people would benefit from giving their digestive system a little rest. My alternative has become eating less, and avoiding heavy meals before bedtime. It takes a life time to allow one’s body a voice, but also relish the taste of the food it approves of.
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Lovely post! I find myself drawn to senses, too, particularly smell. There’s so much that fills the imagination when one sees the world with more than just eyes!
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I agree, thinking here also of the rich memories senses can bring into the presence, smells of food, of places we’ve lived in. Apparently smell influences our choice of mates 🙂
I find myself also sensitive to background sounds of my house, the particular clang of doors, creaking of steps …
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