I’m generally a tidy, meticulous eater. I overuse my napkin. I take forever to finish a plate. I’ve overly conscious about talking with my mouth full or getting food in my teeth. I greatly prefer food I can cut into bite-size pieces instead of messy finger foods since I’m constantly worried that my face is covered in sauce or dressing.
Thus, one of my greatest food pleasures is to let loose when I’m home alone with a piece of fruit over my sink. Specifically, sticky, drippy fruit like pears, peaches, and watermelon.
If paparazzi are ever compelled to photograph me in my apartment, they’re not going to catch me with my pants down. Rather, they’ll capture me tearing into an overripe pear in the kitchen, juice dripping down my arms and chin, a look of pure bliss on my face. (Okay, they’ll probably also catch me with my pants down. I don’t wear pants unless I have to.)