Tasteless
I tested positive for COVID the week before Christmas but negative by Christmas Eve. And so the family gathered around the board of cheeses and smoked fish; the table with its centerpiece of an herb-crusted hunk of beef surrounded by my women ancestors’ good china bowls filled with creamed spinach and slow-roasted potatoes, and followed afterwards by the silver platter showcasing a dense chocolate cake covered in ripe raspberries. Bottles and bottles of rich red wine and several glasses of port made the rounds. Our family sat at the table talking and eating into the early morning. I believed I relished every morsel.
But now, I’m positive again, once more stranded on my tiny little island of a room in the back of the house, and realizing that all those marvelous flavors I thought I savored were probably a charitable illusion balanced on memory of each dish’s flavor. A mercy, really, if you think about it, paired with how grateful I am that losing this one essential sense is the worst of my bad symptoms.
Now, entering my third week, a curious thing is happening. My other senses have kicked in, first noticed with the turkey soup a very kind and cherished neighbor brought over. The broth was a rich, clarified yellow, with shreds of turkey and carrots suspended throughout. Always helpful, my husband kept claiming between slurps how tasty the soup was. For me, the pleasure arrived through the silky feel of the ditalini pasta my neighbor loves. The little fat tubes slipped silky and comforting across my tongue, luxuriously giving way with each small bite I took.
The crunch of sea salt sprinkled atop dark chocolate caramels. The burn of hot sauce on scrambled eggs. The stickiness of maple syrup on my lips from the small stack of pancakes that my husband cooked for dinner one night. The exquisite beauty of a rosy green pear offered for one lunch with slivers of pungent and creamy Roquefort cheese on the side.
Glorious palliatives they all are in the midst of a little desert.
And last but not least, how were your holidays? What have you been up to? Anything cooking on your stove? We would love to hear from you!
Happy New Year, Pat! So sorry you're positive again! But as always, you are upbeat and an inspiration to my grumpy self. Anyway, cooking has been one of my joys during my own recovery. Yesterday, I made Jamaican oxtail stew, a NY Times recipe. Substituted chuck cubes and dried cannelini beans for the oxtails and white limas. The gravy was amazing. It cooked all afternoon so the thyme, hot pepper, and allspice worked their magic. Can't wait to eat the leftovers today, when it will be even tastier. Lots of love.
Oh Pat! What a way to bring in the new year. I'm so sorry you have it AGAIN and that you can't taste. But, how your other senses are stepping up to the plate. Fabulous! Get well soon.