Last week I expressed my joy at watching an elderly gentleman actually take the time to savour his food. I nattered on for a while about how we should all follow suit and eat slower. But I didn’t actually give very good (or scientific for that matter) reasons for doing so. This is where I rectify that. Consider this as ‘slow food ramblings part two’ or ‘why we would be crazy to not slow down at meal times’. After some extensive research (well if previous discussions with naturopaths, personal experience, ‘scientific observations’ of others and twenty minutes on Google yesterday counts as extensive), I’ve drawn up what I believe to be the three ‘main’ benefits or ‘goals’ of slow eating. This excludes reaping enjoyment from what we eat as a) I talked about it for far too long last week (sorry about that) and b) if you work to reap these three benefits, then the enjoyment will should come naturally. Unless you find some warped pleasure in devouring your meal as though it was your first and if that’s the case, I can’t help you. Because what we’re aiming to do is treat it as your last, savour every last mouthful and enjoy the heck out of it. Continue reading
There is an elderly gentleman who frequents my work a few times a week. His order is exactly the same, rain or shine. Two slices of raisin toast, lathered with copious amounts of butter on both sides, as soon as they come out of the oven, and then run out to him whilst they are still piping hot. His face breaks into the biggest crooked smile when you present the plate of hot, melty-buttery toast to him and you just know that it has made his day. Even when work’s frantic and you’ve hardly got time to breath, let alone be fussed trying to butter both sides of the toast without dropping it or smearing butter all down your front, it’s worth the effort just to see his reaction. And after observing this gentleman for a number of weeks, I’ve reached the conclusion that most of his enjoyment lies in the process of eating the toast. Relishing every mouthful. 
