https://soundcloud.com/user-457730320/eating-slowly-eating-mindfully?utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

For an audio version of this post (read by yours truly) -

"Slow down!" my husband warned. "You'll make yourself sick."

We were visiting Savannah, where we'd brazenly parked in a no-parking zone just so we could Taste the much-hyped pizza from Vinnie Van GoGo's. The two slices we'd ordered were so large they occupied the same box that would house an entire medium pie at any other pizzeria. They were also piping hot from being fresh out of the oven that their heat was burning a hole into my legs through the cardboard.

But I didn't care. I was far too busy cramming bite after bite of pizza into my chipmunk cheeks, and I was indignant that my husband - who knows pizza is my favorite food - would dare try to control my intake speed. Alas, my mouth was too full for a timely retort.

The slices at Vinnie Van GoGo's were incredible, and I'm still flying high from the memory of those bites. But this isn't another one of those blasted restaurant reviews (I pinky-promised I wouldn't do that here again, and hooked pinkies are as good as blood vows in my world). I mention them only because it's something about me you should know. I love food - so very much that half of this blog is predicated on that obsession.

But here's something else you should know - I eat fast. Ridiculously fast.

Part of that stems from my habitually impatient nature, and the other half of it comes from practice. After nearly two decades of learning to chew fast or guzzle a liquid lunch as a teacher (while simultaneously preparing for lessons or checking emails), my tummy has become accustomed to speed.

But, my therapist recently pointed out, it sounds like your taste buds haven't been having much fun.

Food is naturally at the center of my world as an eater, but it also gets a VIP seat in my reading and writing world. Why? I find it a remarkable thing that something as subjective as tastes, flavors, and cravings could somehow be communicated through a clever string of words.

In reading, I can magically plant myself into the mind of Ruth Reichl, the seasoned New York Times food critic, as she teases out the tastes of a particularly rich creme au beurre. Through writing, I can bring local Yelpers with me to try out a new dessert spot. I believe the written word is the unicorn thread through which humans can actually practice the most basic tenets of empathy by allowing others to taste what we're having.

All that said, it's mighty hard for me to communicate all the good food I've been eating if I can't even let it sit in my mouth long enough for my synapses to realize Oh! We're eating now! I have a fraught and complex relationship with food that I'll maybe talk more about someday. For now, I wanted to share that one thing I've been working on lately is how to eat more slowly. If you're a Page and Spoon friend who's also on Instagram, you might've even seen me tinkering in our kitchen in recent videos. What you likely didn't see are my efforts to eat more slowly, or 'mindfully' as folks now are wont to say. With the camera watching to hold me accountable, and a fascinating book in hand, I've been retreating to my childhood habit of reading while eating to try and slow my munch momentum.

To that end, Daina, my therapist, had a creative idea.

"After a meal, why don't you take a moment to try and describe how, say, your broccoli tasted? It might be a good carrot to try and trick your brain into slowing down as you eat."

I was all for it. I was especially excited for the opportunity to pair my writing and eating life that much more. So without further ado or flourish, here are the first fruits of that homework from my humble lunch today.

In a former life, I might have asked you to forgive the rough and ready handwriting, or my thoughts in such a private, draft state. But part of my growth journey is learning how to unapologetically share and present unpolished efforts with friends as I attempt to grow into a better, healthier version of me.

So from now on, in the Eat With Me section of Page and Spoon, you'll see no more swanky restaurants, fine fare, and beautiful plates. Instead, you'll see me in all my simple food, messy notes, roomy at-home clothes, and my clumsy attempts at slow, mindful eating while getting cozy with my latest read.

P.S. If you're not on Instagram, first of all, bravo! I always applaud luddites and those refusing to engage in social media (I secretly believe it might be one of the secrets to a healthier life and self-image). But if you're curious about the videos I mentioned, I'll leave one here for your viewing pleasure.

https://video.wixstatic.com/video/35be54_c19446775c5b4ff0a2871e25c0d9401f/1080p/mp4/file.mp4