Love of food

I love food. I love to talk about food, I love to cook, and most of all I love to eat. This all seems very natural to me, and I always assume everyone else is like that as well.

Well, apparently this isn’t the case. My roommate is a good example of one of those weirdoes who does not care about food. Yes, you read it correctly. She really does not care. I mean she likes to eat and she can appreciate nice food, but it does not really interest her at all.

I make her dinner and she is very appreciative (and why shouldn’t she be. She does not have to cook, which she hates, and I am an amazing cook). However, she would eat whatever plate I would put in front of her and react in the same manner (unless it includes some of the few things she really does not like).

My roommate also absolutely hates to cook, because she honestly does not see the point of spending any amount of time on preparing food. She is the kind of person who can easily skip a meal, or just forget to eat all together.

You might think I am sharing this with you because I think she is a freak. I do think that, but that is not the point. To be honest, I am just very very jealous. Not so much about the fact she cannot enjoy cooking or appreciate really good food, but about the fact that she does not care about food. It certainly would not hurt me if I cared about food a little less.

But how could I possibly not care about food, when it just tastes so damn good?