Mmm, Cold Spaghetti

"Did you heat it up?"

This is a question that has been asked of me for about the last quarter century. I love eating food cold. I don't mean food that's supposed to be eaten cold, such as salad or chocolate pudding or gazpacho soup. I enjoy eating cooked food cold. I even used to buy extra Big Macs so that I could enjoy them chilled, later (this was in the days when I still had a metabolism).

Delivery pizza is always delicious cold, the next morning.

I know that I am the odd man out. It bothers Domestic Partner on a weekly basis when I am eating leftovers from Tupperware containers, right out of the refrigerator. Before I moved into Domestic Bliss, my roommates used to think I was strange. "How can you eat food cold?" they used to ask me.
In high school, when I would come home late from a rehearsal, I could count on finding a plate of dinner right next to the microwave, lovingly wrapped in plastic wrap. "Did you heat it up?" my mother would ask on the nights she came downstairs to check in with me. "Yes," I would lie.

"Yes," I lie to Domestic Partner's face when he asks the same question, even though he knows I'm lying, and despite the fact that he's close enough to the kitchen that he would've heard the four "it's done" dings of the microwave, had I actually used it.

Hunger makes the best seasoning. Other than that, it's difficult to describe why and how much I truly enjoyed leftover spaghetti (veggie-crumbles 'meat' sauce) for dinner tonight, right out of the flat, square Glad brand container. Even fried food tastes good cold. Two nights ago, for dinner, Domestic Partner had grilled some ahi tuna and steamed some jasmine rice. He didn't bother preparing any vegetables since we had brought a ton of tempura from a family meal that my mom had made this past weekend.

"Did you heat it up?" Domestic Partner asked. I nodded, all the while chewing and never taking my eyes off of the television screen.

I don't know why he even bothers to ask, anymore.