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Food to me is all about comfort. The comfort of knowing that your heart is still beating and your clock is still ticking because you’re hungry. And if you’re hungry for food, you’re hungry for life. One of the most terrifying things I can imagine is a woman who has lost her appetite. Dead girl walking (and not eating). The horror.
But sometimes, to be fair, life can really punch you in the face. And those are the days you need a little more comfort than others. And in my mind, those days when the subway never comes or your dog mistakes your closet for the toilet are the days that earn you free hedonistic, bacchanalian license in the kitchen. How good could life be, after all, without a few little sins?