Ladies Who Lunch

I was caught on tape last week making out with a cupcake. My facestuffing apparently made the evening news, or so I've heard from a few friends and colleagues.

Allow me to explain. I was invited to a donor recognition luncheon as a grantee (yippee!). As a person who works in healthcare-realted non-profit, I attend such fetes on a semiregular basis. A gala here, a luncheon there- you know, grueling stuff. But, haha, in once sense it is grueling, for me anyway. Because eating meals with small children has reduced my manners and refinement to those of a bear at the dump, and because eating at home with said children is a timed relay race, having a civilized meal makes me feel a little like I'm playing dress-up. I have to be very careful not to break character.

It's not just that my manners are a little rusty. It's really my deep down love of chowing down. I like to eat with gusto. Not like that awful Man vs. Food show (He's going to rupture his esophagus. You heard it here first). It's just that, when faced with a beautiful spread of food or a decadent dessert, I like to eat with abandon, not worrying if sauce is on my chin or salsa is running down my wrist. I'm a Pig, according to Chinese astrology, an epicurean beast who never met a menu she didn't like. Food is for savoring, not picking. Noses are for picking- just ask my kids.

When I'm at these events, it always seems to me that many of the urbane and worldly types that attend barely seem to take notice of the food. Following that sophisticated cue, I've learned over the years that, when attending work-related social gatherings, it's best to dial down the food enthusiasm. When faced with a buffet, I make sure, at the end of the line, that at least part of my plate is still showing. I try not to cry when the waitstaff come along and clear the uneaten brownies (uneaten brownies!!) I play along, and do my best to delicately graze at my plate. But inside, what I'm really wanting to do when I see that amazing, professionally prepared smorgasbord is load up a platter like I'm at the Sizzler, tuck in my napkin, and start smacking.

I know when I'm at an event as the recipient of an oversized check, the food should be the last thing on my mind. Truly, being funded for another year's work was exhilarating. But, man, these cupcakes were sublime. It was almost like pound cake with a perfect, creamy-but-not-sickly-sweet frosting. The first bite of something like that usually sets off a feeding frenzy of sorts for me. I think I managed to keep my elbows down by my ribs and not level with my ears, but I don't think I looked up from the dish until I had devoured the last bite. But as I looked around the table to see if perhaps there might be an extra, I did notice a large, black television camera pointing my way.

I didn't actually see the luncheon footage on the evening news, but it's safe to bet it was me, with pink frosting in my eyebrow, looking simultaneously satisfied and stricken.