Only the Vain and Tacky Waste Fine Dining: Some Mindful Thoughts
Eating out in a new neighborhood has inspired a few mindful tips that I would like to share.
Never go faster than your tastebuds: It is always harder to taste your food when you hurry through it. Imagine a child gulping down a nasty cough medicine. If they comply, it is quick. The point is to minimize the unpleasant experience by reducing the factor of time. It’s as though the pleasure of consumption is an equation balanced with the actual taste of the item multiplied by time tasted. The converse of the medicine example is the way we slowly savor our favorite dish.
With the raisin assignment, popularized by mindfulness practitioners everywhere, students are challenged to slowly experience one raisin. The first time I did the raisin assignment, I was shocked by the intricate texture and waves of flavor that came from the simple food. Half an hour later, I went out for tacos in Venice Beach and was delighted by my elevated awareness of every morsel. Yet, why do I see people racing through their meals?
Recently, I’ve been visiting with a friend in a hip neighborhood in East Los Angeles. There’s an excellent bakery on the main drag with a line out the door every morning. Twice, I’ve sat in the bakery and watched the morning rush unfold. The patrons are drinking their coffee so fast they burn themselves on the way out. Large muffins are inhaled in a few bites, and most do this while walking out. Frenetic dining actually beats the purpose of getting good food. If you won’t taste it, save yourself the time and money. Have a cheap granola bar with similar nutrition content while you commute.
If you are reading this, you are probably not starving. You can eat slower.
Always look at your food when you eat: I borrow this rule from a video by Nathaniel Drew. Nathaniel explains that good food is one of the luxuries in his life, but he fails to enjoy it when watching videos on his phone. It’s disappointing to finish the meal, because the experience of eating passed by unnoticed. He’s decided to give up his phone during meals.
Back to the local bakery — today a man asked if he could sit across from me. Of course I agreed. What a nice surprise? We could have a conversation. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize his intentions. The man dragged out a large camera with a telescopic lens and began to photograph his croissant from every angle. He waited for patrons to move so he could get better lighting. Then, he pulled out his phone to take more photos. Finally, holding the croissant in his left hand, he devoured it in three bites while posting the photos with his right hand. Did he even know what the croissant tasted like?
In the evenings, I often go to a pub with plenty of casual seating to hang with friends. Big couches line the walls and it feels like home, but I often find my eyes drifting toward the television behind the bar. The bright lights and quick transitions of television are designed to grab your attention, especially in commercials. Last night it was Jurassic World on FX, a few days before it was a cliff diving competition. Anything that flashes like a strobe light is distracting. Many restaurants, such as Buffalo Wild Wings, maximize the number of televisions in a space. The theory is that distracted patrons will actually eat more than focused patrons. Try for yourself. Do you eat more when you look at each bite or while you watch NFL Network?
The lesson in both these ideas is to avoid racing through life with your attention splintered to pieces. Some call it distraction. I like a book that calls it mindlessness. You must always choose where to put your attention. If you carry a smartphone there is no end to the demand for your focus. The most effective solution is to leave your phone behind. Focus when dining and you will instantly take more pleasure in what you eat.