Lemon chicken with broccoli, arugula salad and a peanut butter cookie.
At first, I blamed it on a nastywinter cold.
Sadly, my buds didn’t budge.
Jonathan Knowles / Getty Images
Worse, a lingering, acrid taste in my mouth turned every bite into sour sludge.
So I returned to my doctor, who handed me a referral to a taste-disorder specialist.
He explained that taste disturbances could be a rare side effect.
My earliest memories involve sitting around a rickety table in my family’s summer cabin in Vermont.
The food powered the conversation, which grew to a low roar as the wine flowed.
Food was the yeast that lifted up my life.
But now,hosting a dinner partywas out of the question.
I couldn’t taste the fruits of my labors.
Instead, I threw myself a pity party.
Food had been my anchor; now I felt adrift.
But I couldn’t even rely on wine to melt away my stress because it tasted like rubbing alcohol.
I reminded myself that losing my sense of taste was less dire than many calamities.
My social life ground to a halt as I canceled dinners with friends.
I missed the camaraderie, but why torture myself with the smells coming out of a restaurant kitchen?
As I inhaled the earthiness of the truffles, my hopes surged.
Maybe the flavor would be strong enough to make an impact.
I took a bite.
Nothing but stomach-curdling sourness.
I forced myself to swallow, then turned away, trying to hide my disappointment.
What was the point?
(“Gimme that drug!”
Dinner at home got tense, too.
The sourness in my mouth gradually disappeared as I began ingesting small portions, still without the slightest sensation.
It wasn’t until the fifth week of my ordeal that pops of flavor started to hit my palate.
Salt came through; sweet was elusive.
Soon, my diet resembled something a nutritionist would approve of.
I ditched sugar and alcohol.
Strong fish like wild salmon registered, and vegetables, though bland, were also palatable.
To double-check I fully enjoyed any flavors that did peek through, I ate more slowly.
As my energy soared, I ran my first 10K race and began training for a half marathon.
In short, I’d never felt betterphysically.
But the bursts of flavor were also a reminder of everything else I was missing in my life.
I sniffed it cautiously, then lifted a slice to my mouth.
What I tasted was almost elemental: wet earth, tree roots.
I grabbed one, smearing it with strawberry jam and sweet butter, took a bite and smiled.
It tasted like pure joy.
But on some level, I’d been taking every bite for granted.
Here’s what you could do… Mani-pedi addicts, beware.
Certain medications for sleep, blood pressure and cholesterol can also interfere with taste.
