Savor. I forget to savor. How ridiculous, I know, given my obsession with all things sensual, but it’s a discipline, to savor, and I’ve far from mastered it. In fact, I’ve concluded that forgetting to savor is my biggest obstacle to achieving seamless moderation. I get so, so excited about something I’m cooking, or eating at someone else’s home, or in a serious restaurant, that I just blindly dive in. Hot, crispy frites? Silky, truffly risotto? Woo friggin’ hooooo!
Hey, I’m all for enthusiasm (hell yeah!), but sometimes… Perhaps often… I’m rather, um, inelegant about it all. I eat way too fast. I talk way too much. So. My latest takeaway from French Women Don’t Get Fat is to Slow. Down. Stephanie. Chew, seriously chew, my food. Sip, slowly sip, my wine. Think about it, taste it, savor it. When I do, my enjoyment explodes. In fact, as far as disciplines go, this one’s a pretty big duh – no downsides, only positives. So that’s my New Year’s resolution (I hadn’t made one yet) – To Savor.
(And to walk more, spend less time on the computer, write more thank you notes, drink more water, keep my desk clean. Volunteer more. Be a nicer person. And figure out what I want to be when I grow up. Amen.)