Lynn Ruth Miller: Fat and Thin
Oh Lynn Ruth Miller, she’s as contentious as ever…
There is a study out, trying to figure out “why lesbians tend to be overweight”, and it is totally misdirected. It isn’t lesbians who tend to be plump, it is good cooks, and who was the best cook ever?
Answer: Your mother.
No one in the world made better macaroni and cheese, or apple pie. When your mum made you breakfast, no restaurant could match it, and certainly your dad couldn’t do much at the stove except for an outdoor barbecue, or one fancy company dish like his famous crab cioppino.
The obvious truth is that it isn’t lesbians who have to fight their weight, it is anyone – male, female, straight or gay – who loves to cook. If you have a way with food, you are going to taste what you create … and those itty-bitty spoonfuls of chocolate custard or Alfredo sauce go straight to the hips.
Look at our own darling, Andrew Kay. He has never cooked for me (yet) but he knows good food.
He savors the texture, recognises the bouquet of herbs and spices, and respects dramatic cuisine.
His silhouette is certainly not angular; it is just round enough.
“I refuse to go to a skinny person’s house for dinner”
For my part, I refuse to go to a skinny person’s house for dinner.
I am not going to waste a meal on someone who doesn’t present each dish with a bit of flair and an eye for flavour. I made that mistake only once. A woman who shall remain nameless, in case she figures out why I am always busy at dinnertime when she calls, invited me over for a gala holiday celebration. She was the type who spent mornings at the gym, bench-pressing hundreds of pounds. Afternoons she worked out on the trampoline, and evenings she did Zumba. The truth is I should have known what to expect.
I appeared, wine in hand, with an empty, expectant tummy and what did I see? Pizza delivered from the corner shop, pre-sliced mass-produced bread, and instant coffee. I know you won’t believe me, but the only spread available was Marmite. There wasn’t even background music to hide the gagging of the guests. I immediately feigned a headache and hustled over to the nearest Waitrose for a gourmet experience. Dinner is a terrible thing to lose… especially if you skipped lunch.
So I am campaigning for people to stop casting negative aspersions on corpulence. Give me someone with a decent amount of curves and a good wiggle to their walk and I will immediately lobby to share a meal with them. If you are lean, buff and tanned I would not dream of touching your soup, much less your flambé cherries jubilee. Show me a comfy, well-padded cheerful person in a flowered apron and I am right there at her dinner table. I promise to bring the wine.
“Thin people are beautiful, but fat people are adorable.” – Jackie Gleason
