Cooking Dinner Again

Years ago, I actually enjoyed cooking. Close friends recall a time during which I used to prepare elaborate meals, cater parties, and watched the Food Network until noon on weekend mornings to learn about how to prepare healthy and unique meals. I found stress relief in chopping up mounds of vegetables, trying to make traditional recipes "healthy", and sipping on glass after glass of wine while stirring up something incredible in the kitchen.

Somewhere along the line, this passion faded. When I started to feel an unfounded and extreme guilt for nourishing my body, our refrigerator became a hell of a lot emptier and the homecooked meals became few and far between.

My anorexia is not solely to blame for this shift, as The Mr. and I shared meals less frequently when he started taking graduate school classes in the evenings. The conflict in our schedules made it easier for me to hide my growing obsession with starvation, and I began using my alone time to over-exercise and forego dinners. I can remember many, many nights during which I would return home after spending three hours working out intensely at the gym and force myself to go to sleep immediately, ignoring hunger pains as I felt for my ribs and hip bones under the covers.

Only this week have I begun to recall the enjoyment I used to receive from preparing meals. Having now experienced the struggle  of an eating disorder, I do not think I will ever have a "normal" relationship with food. However, LA has singlehandedly helped to ease the anxiety surrounding preparing and enjoying meals this week.

Twice this week, I have prepared full meals for The Mr. and I. Sure, I approach meal preparation as any recovering anorexic would: I need to keep the meals as "clean" as possible, stick to small portion sizes, and create combinations using only my "safe" food list. Nevertheless, I am slowly dusting off the kitchen appliances I thought I had forgotten how to use.

Tonight was no exception. I had already forewarned The Mr. that we would be having one of LA's suggestions this evening for dinner, and he was (honestly) not thrilled at first. Earlier in the week, LA had told me about her vegetarian tacos, explaining that she replaces the meat with a mixture of black beans and corn (seasoned like taco meat). I would not consider myself a full-fledged vegetarian, although I am about as close as one can get without the actual label, so this sounded rather appealing to me. After talking about this meal with her, I realized I could recreate it using all "safe" foods of mine, so I decided to bust out the cookware that has been collecting dust in the kitchen and give it a shot.

I poured a (giant) glass of wine, and got to work. I sliced open avocados and scooped out the soft center. I chopped up a bushel of cilantro and took in a mild, fragrant scent I haven't experienced in over a year. I quickly diced up tomatoes with the knife skills I learned years ago when I worked as a creative assistant for a catering company, and I nibbled on some cheddar cheese shreds before placing a mound in a serving dish I had forgotten I even owned. I set the table with our matching dishes (something I used to fuss over), and called The Mr. to the table to try something new.

He was hesistant at first, looking skeptically at the meatless mixture he was expected to roll up in a corn tortilla. But, driven by hunger, he dug in anyhow. I watched him load his tortilla up with lots of condiments(probably to cover up the taste of the foreign bean/corn mixture).

He ate three tacos. I had two, and ate them slowly, taking in all the flavors I'm learning to love again. We refilled our wine glasses until the bottle was empty. And I, once again, was provided with a bittersweet glimpse of how life used to be; before food became my enemy.

I vow to thank LA for reminding me that food is something to be enjoyed, and not something to be feared.

The eating disordered response to tonight's dinner is not obsolete; I still feel as though I overate (I did not...not even close) and purging has crossed my mind. I started to add up the ingredients' calories in my head like I have done so many times before. I regretted not using reduced-fat cheddar cheese, and obsessed over whether or not the taco seasoning mix contained too much sodium. I have stood in front of the mirror several times this evening and tried to grab "fat" that I swear is there, but have to trust is not. These thoughts will probably always haunt me, but at least I am learning to rationalize them, brush them off as distorted, and move on.

This past week, I prepared dinner using my "safe" foods twice. Next week, I want to meet this goal again, and perhaps aim for three complete meals. I'm beginning to actually like cooking again. It will take some time until I can cook without overanalyzing the ingredient list or eliminating "unsafe" components. But as long as The Mr. is willing to put up with a few uber-healthy meals, I think I may begin to spend a little more time in the kitchen in the coming weeks.

In other news, I received a sad email from LA this evening. I was scheduled to meet with her tomorrow morning, however, she and her family have been forced to move out of their home due to smoke damage from a house fire. While missing my appointment with her would normally throw my Type-A personality into a tailspin, the situation at hand motivates me to do well this weekend without her. LA has done so much to help me throughout this process that I owe it to her to pull myself up, work through my own emotions related to food, and make progress independently. I would love to meet with her on Monday and be able to tell her that I ate well, avoided purging, and took some chances on my own. And I am, of course, thinking of her and her family...I can only imagine how stressful and upsetting such an experience can be. She believes so strongly in me that I cannot help but send lots and lots of positivity her way during this time.

I think a celebratory "I Beat Anorexia" party at my house is just around the corner. Perhaps I'll even prep all the food, just like old times.

It's long overdue, is it not?