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There must be a strong physiological bond / affinity between these two aspects of the senses, such that it seems as though you can't have one without the other.
Because of my two months of illness, I no longer have any appetite, not even for the things I used to love to eat — for example the exquisite carrot cake made by Pastry Pants Bakery in Swarthmore; a scrumptious piece of it has been sitting on my kitchen counter for two weeks. In the past, I would have devoured it upon sight.
Now, about the only thing that attracts my eating attention is feta cheese, especially from the barrel in its brine, which I consume copiously. Everything else I put in my mouth tastes cottony.
I don't even like fresh water any more — sè 澀 ("astringent").
Selected readings
May 29, 2026 @ 7:51 pm
· Filed by Victor Mair under Language and food
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