When I walked into the restaurant yesterday afternoon, bringing the Chef a big cup of coffee before I drove off to write all day long, I kissed him. And then he handed me one of these.
"Would you like a stark red crimson pear?" he asked me as he kissed me again.
His produce delivery had arrived, boxes of organic salad mix and locally grown herbs and arugula for the fish special. He had asked for five pounds of these, for poaching with the flourless walnut cake. Instead, they had sent an entire case. He had some to spare.
I took a bite, of its crisp sweetness, the skin a startling red against creamy white flesh. I smiled. It was the perfect palate cleanser after all that Thanksgiving food.
I drove off smiling, headed towards my writing.
No comments:
Post a Comment
The conversation and community is the best part of being here. Id love to hear what you have to say.
Let the conversation be spirited and full of questions. However, any nasty comments with a personal attack, or scurrilous ones with no intention but to hurt? They]re not getting published.
This is why I am no longer accepting anonymous comments. Too many insulting comments come through those.
This space is like my kitchen, and Im inviting you in. If you would feel comfortable pointing your finger at me and shouting during a party in my kitchen, well, I'd ask you to leave. And then the rest of us would clear the air and go back to talking and laughing. The same is true here.
Now. Enough of that. Let's talk.