04 - Sugar

Food Network

Every single one of us has a vice. More often than not, it’s actually several vices. Drinking, smoking, partying, doing drugs, gambling - even excessive online shopping can be considered problematic and unhealthy.

Mine isn’t nearly as wild as most of those things, but it’s a vice nonetheless. Which is to say, I experience all of the unhealthy downsides of said vice, without any of the crazy stories or the inspirational tales of redemption to tell afterwards. 

Sugar. 

That’s it. That’s my vice. 

Consuming sugar in all its forms, short of rubbing it directly on my gums, or snorting a mountain of it like a G-rated Scarface. 

Through pretty bad eating habits, I’ve developed a physical dependency on it. I can’t function without it.

I don’t know why it gives my brain an orgasm once I get a taste, it just does. 

Salted caramel milkshakes, golden cake with thick vanilla frosting, soft serve ice cream, toffee, brownies, fresh baked cookies - or even raw cookie dough - Reeses Pieces, Oreos, the list goes on and on.

It’s so bad, I’ve often fantasized about rubbing icing on a woman’s naked body and licking it off - and I’m not sure what aspect of that fantasy gets me going the most; the naked woman, or the icing.

The problem is, my brain doesn’t retain the flavor profile of this devilish powder - so whereas I can eat other foods with no excitement (since my brain remembers what almonds taste like, for example) - fireworks go off in my mouth whenever I eat an Oreo. 

Every time I bite into one, it tastes like the first time I’m having it. My brain processes the cookie and says “Mmm! What is this new and interesting flavor currently raw dogging my tastebuds?! We should eat this more often!”

They’re Oreos, brain. And we fucking eat them every day. Why aren’t you getting this? Why is this still an event?

I’m actively trying to cut down on my intake, but I live in America, where the only good thing about the country right now is the junk food. No one does sweet, fatty goodness like America. It’s out escape from all the other terrible things about America. Especially here in New York, where bakeries and artisan ice cream shops concoct frankenstein treats that are so egregious with their pornographic gluttony, their Instagram pictures should be flagged as NSFW.

It also doesn’t help matters when the mack daddy of 90s snacks - Dunkaroos - have made a triumphant, sugary return in our lives, during the worst year most of us have ever experienced. My blood type is probably funfetti frosting, at this point. 

Dammit, I’m a grown ass man. I shouldn’t be involuntarily humming any time I stuff my face with a fucking peanut butter cup. Yet there I was in October, splurging on Halloween candy, knowing full well not a single child was gonna come knocking on my door. And here I am in December, brainstorming recipes for baked goods that traditionally, I’d give out as gifts to friends and family, once again knowing full well, I’ll be consuming most of whatever I make this year. 

I know I said I’d spend the entire month writing about my loves, but this is one of those things that I actually hate in equal measure. 

I don’t know when I’ll get over my sugar addiction. I hope it’s soon, but I gotta be honest, it’s not looking great for your boy right now.

You know it’s bad when you’re chewing Juicy Fruit like it’s nicotene gum to help fight your cravings.

Walking away from cake is anything but a cakewalk.