When food is just about eating

I'm probably going to regret writing this as it is sensitive

Last Saturday, I went to a friend's birthday party at a mexican restaurant. Now, this friend of mine is a great guy and his friends who arranged it are nice people ( I say this as a 100% chicken shite fella due to the fact that they might be reading this blog and I won't be invited to another event again :-) )

I'm a cagey kind of person, which means that if I feel that the 'vibe' isn't there; I might just pike out and go home if I can. Emphasis on 'if I can'. If it's your wedding, chances are I might stay to the end..but, uh...I have left before the vows in the past. I mean, what are the chances of something out of the ordinary happening, like the bride suddenly running off with an alien Elvis on a Harley? Nah, it's predictable. So true to form, I left.

Anyway, ever get the feeling when you go to some events that the meal and the night is just an excuse in futility and ceremony? That all that gets traded is some small talk, laughs and witty remarks. Not that there's anything bad about those..but in my present stage of life...there needs to be more

What transforms a meal into a life event is that wine gets spilled on the linen of life. And it is stained metaphorically for better of worse. In other words, in a world where vanilla, political correctness and niceness are valued over a sense of drama, wildness and passions unleashed - we've settled for the tame dog over the wolf

I want to leave a meal with friends and family saying " Frakk! What just happened?" That, my friends, is the real transubstantiation - the taco becomes the body of real fellowship and the blood of the margarita flows not just as an elixir but as a channel of life in all it's dimensions

If not, then the food is just food. A sense of pleasure in one paradigm but that's all it is - just chewing and eating. But on a larger scale, it's the last supper - a sense of ending and beginnning, journey and destiny...

..and that's what I pray it should be