CB, your response sobered me, in a good way. You showed a lot of compassion for M. Cooking and food-obsessing is a big part of his "love language." He's said so: "This is how I show love for the people I love." So the struggle to balance appreciation and gratitude (this generous man is feeding me great meals!) with my inner aversion to the volume of attention he pays to it (and insists I pay in return) is difficult. I feel like such an ingrate.
The truth is, I have a deep recoil at times. It's not the topic but his obsessiveness around it that gets to me. My reaction isn't rational, it's visceral. I think on a deep dive I'd find it has something to do with my father. He was the main cook and also clearly had some version of OCD as M seems to as well. So even though I was desperate to help, all I could ever do was sit and watch Dad. I adored him and wanted to be part of it. M is similar in the kitchen, in that he has total control of absolutely everything that's happening, and no matter how often I ask, he wants to orchestrate every single step. One difference is that my Dad never lectured, narrated, or held forth aloud about every single aspect of his cooking, as M does. So even though it was frustrating not to be allowed to participate, I still was happy to be around my Dad.
It reminds me of M's "forced teaching" thing I described here at one point. I'd like to just enjoy a meal, ask a few appreciative questions about it and enjoy learning a bit. But not the entire Julia Child step-by-step recreation of every single thing that went into it. M's style of teaching is to go through each conceivable detail at microscopic level. "And then at 2:00 I took out a medium bowl and placed the whatever in it, to marinate in a blend of A and B and C and D and E...." So if I ask, what's that lovely XX?, I just get Too Much Answer. I also feel that my role is to clap. It's just hard. Doesn't mean it should be, but it builds up.
It's a weird response and I'm going to work on it. If I'm going to eat both greedily and gratefully at his house, I do think I should find a way to just accept that all the narration is the price of admission. The other day, when it started the second I stepped into the house (on a day when I'd asked for less of it), I think I couldn't handle it. I was on edge instantly, realizing nothing could really change.
Tupp, you're right. If I'd spoken up (a theme I have to work on) in a calm way, nothing would have happened. I actually *snatched* them out of the bowl, and suddenly. I think that's what upset him. There was no grace involved. He is very formal and fixates on the sort of ballet involved. Every meal is a production, with an audience. I understand it but find it the opposite of relaxing sometimes.
CB, you were also completely on target about the feeling of needing to protect my food and drink preferences because he often doesn't. Just subtly pushes things on me. He has a rigid sense of how each dish should be and it seems to cause him pain when I want to skip bread, refuse wine auto-refills, or do my own salad dressing because I prefer less. So there is chronic tension in me about what he's doing, and I guess my abrupt move with the non-croutons also came from that.
It's almost silly to micro-analyse a minor event like that, but it does seem to reflect a lot of things for me. And given that it culminated in him grinding away with a passive-aggressive commentary on my "character flaws" and me raising my voice and leaving.... I guess it contains truths to ponder. One of them is M's weight. I have never made any reference to it and would never shame him. But he is quite overweight, with a huge belly, etc. And when he insists that food is only about pleasure and celebration (but never makes a single reference to health), it troubles me. His meals he shares are both delicious and mostly healthy, but I believe he eats a lot of sweets alone. Not my job, but at times I feel inner tension over that too (I did spend years writing health books and nutrition things professionally). I've never been with a man as overweight as he is.
CB, your suggestion that I cook sometimes too is a good one. The thing is, I'm a much less relaxed cook for other people...it makes me tense. So to cook with M asking constant questions or also running commentary wouldn't be an easy choice. It's simpler to just be the non-cook in the relationship. But I could ask to negotiate with him that I be allowed to do the dishes. (He doesn't even permit that.) It'd make me calmer I think to have a role to play other than forced-student.
Do you think he's got bigger stuff he wants to say, Hops, but doesn't feel that he can? Or even know he wants to, really? I'm just playing Devil's Advocate a bit. There just seems to be a pattern (from the things you post) of him saying what he's supposed to rather than doing what he's supposed to (or what you ask him to, I suppose is more accurate). And almost like he's pleased when you get something 'wrong' because it gives him a chance to critique you? I don't really know how to explain it. I just feel like when I read about 'crouton gate' it seems like there is something bigger than croutons?
Yes, I think I've finally caught onto M saying the "right" thing in response to requests (even in T) but basically doing whatever he wants to anyway. The more depressing possibility is that M doesn't just have N-ish traits (as I do too) but perhaps he is far more narcissistic than I've been willing to face.
It seems odd, when I think of his emotional, vulnerable side. But if I'm honest, his emotional expression is usually all about his own feelings. He doesn't show much empathy for mine.
Sigh. I don't really know. But I've found myself watching a whole bunch of Dr. Les Clark videos (Surviving Narcissism on YouTube) lately. I don't know if I'm trying to confirm a fear or rule it out. No firm answer yet but a definite trend I need to think about very soberly.
Thanks guys. I will survive Croutongate! And maybe M and I will survive it together. I feel fortunate that I know we can dump it in the lap of the Sikh on Monday, and get some insight.
Much gratitude,
Hops