I am a Gentle Pig

Dessert? Oh no, I couldn't possibly.

Well...

Maybe... just a small piece, though.

No, not that small. A little more and ....... there! Yes, perfect.

I have a friend who describes someone exuding this kind of behaviour as being a gentle pig. You can be a gentle pig by resisting then accepting dessert, a second helping, more wine, or really any sort of gastronomic indulgence.

But there's more to being a gentle pig than simply accepting more when you really wouldn't/couldn't/shouldn't. Whatever it is that you put on your plate/in your glass, you have to finish it easily (and ideally with rigour) as if no effort were involved in completely consuming whatever was put in front of you in a timely manner.

For most people, their inner gentle pig is released when someone offers something like ice cream or cake after a big meal. Me? My gentle pig seems to be attracted to weirdo things like salad, or one particular dish that, when put in front of me, causes me to lose any semblance of self-control. I can be reclined on the couch, not moving because of the agony of a full belly, but if I know there's more to be had then I will find the inner strength to sit upright, walk over to the dinner table, and have another full serving.

And another.

And another.

Until there is none left.

In fact, my version of hell would probably include a bottomless source of this dish, and I'd never be able to stop eating it. (Or would that be heaven?)

Now this dish, Molokhia, is a little bit of an acquired taste. It's kind of slimy in texture and to be blunt, it's not exactly my wife's favourite. But from time-to-time we'll make it and when we do it's a big treat for me.

After several years of observation, my wife has become well-tuned to my weakness towards this dish. When we make it for dinner she plans accordingly. For example, we had molokhia for dinner last night, and she made over twice as much rice as what we would normally make for any other rice-based dish. She only had one small plate, I had four large ones.

At one point in my marathon-of-dinner, I tried to stop eating. I could feel the rice expanding in my belly and thought I'd do the adult thing and stop eating. But my wife, I think, gets a bit of a kick out of watching me eat so much food... When I announced to her that I wasn't going to eat anymore, she appealed to that teenager appetite that was hiding in there, she appealed to my gentle pig. I can only imagine the pleasure she got out of saying to me, "But there's really almost none left. Are you sure you don't want it? Should I just throw it out?"

And with that, like a good gentle pig, I went and had another plate. And then another. Until finally there was none left.

After dinner, having accomplished my mission, I was on the couch trying not to move. At the peak of my agony, my wife leaned over and said "Honey, could you please get me a glass of water?" When I began to show the slightest bit of discomfort at the idea of moving, she followed it up with, "It will be good for your digestion."

But really, how could I say no? She had indulged me in agreeing to have her less-than-favourite dish for dinner.

I was a happy gentle pig.