hardy elegance
this paragraph stopped me and invited itself to be read again and again:
"...when nicole appeared, sans apron, we sat down to lunch. fresh asparagus bought from a nearby market garden was arranged on a striking ceramic serving plate, next to a bowl of lemony hollandaise sauce. olive oil glowed like liquid gold in its glass container. a pork roast appeared accompanied by a platter of petite pois--shelled by nicole--and bits of ham. in the center of the peas was a circle of artichokes and tiny, thinly sliced carrots...wine was poured into long-stemmed glasses as thin as paper. and, as we ate and drank, time stole silently away, leaving in its place: a feeling of contentment.
eventually, pots of chocolate mousse flavored with bits of orange rind appeared, accompanied by a big bowl of ripe juicy strawberries coated with sugar. i ate everything placed before me, my appetite whetted not only by the superb food but by the company as well. this was a house of many apppetites: for books and music and art and flowers and conversation and, of course, food. it was a house that had been nurtured by hardy, elegant people whose lives, like the olive trees surrounding them, had put down deep roots here. and it was a house from which i would take away many good memories when thoughts of provence danced in my head.
as we were finishing dessert, jacques turned to me and asked if i would like a second pot of chocolate mousse. 'oh, thank you but no,' i said, 'i loved it, but one was enough.'
jacques leaned toward me, his large well-shaped head almost brushing mine, 'when you love something, you don't count.' "
--alice steinbach
"...when nicole appeared, sans apron, we sat down to lunch. fresh asparagus bought from a nearby market garden was arranged on a striking ceramic serving plate, next to a bowl of lemony hollandaise sauce. olive oil glowed like liquid gold in its glass container. a pork roast appeared accompanied by a platter of petite pois--shelled by nicole--and bits of ham. in the center of the peas was a circle of artichokes and tiny, thinly sliced carrots...wine was poured into long-stemmed glasses as thin as paper. and, as we ate and drank, time stole silently away, leaving in its place: a feeling of contentment.
eventually, pots of chocolate mousse flavored with bits of orange rind appeared, accompanied by a big bowl of ripe juicy strawberries coated with sugar. i ate everything placed before me, my appetite whetted not only by the superb food but by the company as well. this was a house of many apppetites: for books and music and art and flowers and conversation and, of course, food. it was a house that had been nurtured by hardy, elegant people whose lives, like the olive trees surrounding them, had put down deep roots here. and it was a house from which i would take away many good memories when thoughts of provence danced in my head.
as we were finishing dessert, jacques turned to me and asked if i would like a second pot of chocolate mousse. 'oh, thank you but no,' i said, 'i loved it, but one was enough.'
jacques leaned toward me, his large well-shaped head almost brushing mine, 'when you love something, you don't count.' "
--alice steinbach
Comments
Post a Comment