Tonight we drove to my sister-in-law's to celebrate my birthday dinner. Mary had spread out a feast: wine, cheese and crackers, nuts and fruit, pumpkin soup, salmon, scallops, cherry nut bread, and a mouth-watering vegetable casserole with sweet potatoes, butternut squash, brussel sprouts, onion, and herbs. And this all on the day after my fast.
To top it off, I had brought along a gluten-free carrot cake with cream cheese frosting.
Everything was, as our students say, "tasty." I ate far too much (to the point of physical pain), and have decided upon reflection that it was not out of hunger, but because I thought it was polite to do so. At home I would have had one-quarter of what I consumed at Mary's. But I felt that would not have been acceptable at another person's table. Eating a lot is a way of saying, "You're a great cook! This food is fantastic!" Which it was.
As my poor 60-year-old body tries to digest the final bites of that sweet, oily carrot cake, I am trying to think of better ways to compliment someone else's cooking. At 60 I should be old enough to say no if I'm getting too full.
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