My relationship with food began in the Philippines 23 years
ago. I was born a month early. I weighed 4 pounds. My relatives made it their
mission to feed me.
Growing up, McDonalds and other fast food were a treat for
me. Filipinos regard food such as pizza and burgers as meryenda, a snack.
If you don’t eat it with rice, it’s not a real meal.
But after I moved to America when I was 9, it became a
different story.
Microwaveable snacks began to crowd our freezer. TV dinners
opened a whole new world. And because of the ease and the sheer volume of such
convenient foods, I gained a lot of weight.
My relatives then made it their mission to put me on a diet.
I was 11 when the nagging and the shaming started. It wasn’t that I didn’t know
I was big, I was very aware. I eventually came to accept it. I had spent much
of my pubescent years owning the fact that I was bigger than average. Before
anyone else could make fun of me, I made fun of myself. When people inquired
about my favorite hobby, I readily answered that I loved food, just to drive
home the point.
At 18, I became vegetarian. But much of my diet still
consisted of microwaveable foods – now only involving items that didn’t
contain meat. After seven months, the Thanksgiving turkey won me over and
persuaded me back to my meat-eating ways.
In my first year of college, I left the microwave for
take-out. Delivery made everything easier. All I had to do was open my laptop
and wait without ever leaving my bed.
It wasn’t until I moved back home during one of the most
stressful semesters in my life that I had decided to pick up cooking. I had
been watching the Food Network for years, always thinking, why not?
To this day, I’m unclear what lead to my moment of clarity.
One thing is for certain: I decided to try my hand at cooking and have never
regretted that decision. Some things came easy, such as putting various flavors
together that complement each other. Other things, such as boiling water, took
longer to master. Cooking was always daunting, but it has lead me to a better
place, both physically and mentally.
Cooking also has become meditative. It constantly reminds me
to be in the present. It has helped clear my mind, and I am happier. You can
really find zen in chopping vegetables.
The more I learn about food, the more I care about not just
its origins but the processes in which to prepare them. I’ve begun to make
dishes with fresh ingredients and am learning more about nutrition.
I still have a complicated relationship with food. Sometimes
my body craves chicken nuggets from McDonalds, and I’m OK with that. I’ve come
full circle -- fast food and other junk are for once in a blue moon. Though I
don’t call them treats anymore. I think the food that I make is much more
special.
Kimberly Dublin is a senior journalism student at Rutgers
University. She is a contributor to TheFatKidInside.com and is an editorial intern at EdibleFeast.com.
