The good cheese I stopped saving for a day that never came

There was a wedge of good cheese110 kcal in the fridge for almost three weeks. I bought it on a day I felt strong and then I kept waiting for an evening that felt worthy of it. A quiet Tuesday did not count. A tired Wednesday did not count. I told myself I would open it when I had a proper meal around it or when someone was over or when I had earned a treat.

The cheese started to sweat in its paper. I turned it over and the rind had darkened. That was the night I cut into it and ate it with bread at the counter because it was either that or throw it away. It tasted exactly like the cheese I had been saving. The only thing that had changed was that it was almost too late.

I had been waiting for a version of myself that was not going to show up.

Now I eat the good cheese on a plain Tuesday. I eat it with a piece of bread and a little olive oil119 kcal and I do not build a meal around it first. The saving was the part that was hurting me, because the saving meant I still thought the food needed a reason. The reason was that I was hungry and it was there.

I had a drawer of other things I was not allowed to have yet. The good olive oil, a jar a friend brought, a bar of chocolate I bought after a hard week. The oil went rancid before I finished it. I pour it on toast now without checking whether the day measured up. The chocolate I ate a square at a time on ordinary evenings until it was gone. Nothing was lost by eating the good things on the days I already had.

What changed is that I stopped treating the good food as a reward and started treating it as food. The cheese was never going to make a plain Tuesday special. Eating it was what made the Tuesday ordinary in a good way, the way a Tuesday is supposed to be.