Ashes in My Mouth

You know, I absolutely detest eating alone.

I’m not talking about those snatched meals out of a Styrofoam box that I have for lunch at my office every working day, usually procured after a 20-minute queue in the line, and eaten joylessly while in front of what has become, by default, my best friend – the PC.

I’m referring to those late nights alone in my own kitchen, after the kids have finally gone to the Land of Dreams, when I’m perched atop a bamboo stool with a plate piled with rice and lukewarm dishes. Throughout the house, the lights are off, and there’s only silence while I chew contemplatively on my kangkong, or whatever passes for greens in my diet. There’s something really sad about this whole setup.

As a Chinese, I grew up in a culture where mealtimes are more than just moments when one fills the belly. There’s a whole lot of thought and preparation that goes into each meal, and when Mom says it’s time to eat, it’s time to eat – not a minute sooner, and not one later (my father did not entertain latecomers at the table). Mealtimes are family times, and sharing food is a way of sharing love, and of reinstating the bonds of kinship. Every Chinese knows that to be invited to another’s dinner table is a sign that one has been accepted as “one of the family” – a truly great honour.

These are modern times. The kids have their own meal schedules (of course they’d probably be starving by the time we get home from work), and the individual adults have their own timetables too, not to mention their own specific foods. These days, we don’t adhere have a dinner time – dinner isn’t served; just eaten when one feels like it, or when one can find time to choke down a few mouthfuls.

I know I’m letting nostalgia get the better of me, and that realistically, there isn’t really very much I can do, because our contemporary lifestyles are so hectic and so practical. But in losing the cultural practice of the shared mealtime, I am losing my taste and interest in any cuisine. Because when one eats alone, food just tastes bland, and is cold cold comfort to a tired and lonely soul.