You Were With Me All The While
The search is over, quoth
Survivor. I've found the love of my life, and it is: food.
M. and I went to a museum the other day and then out for sushi. It's about a 20 minute drive from the museum to the restaurant. From the time we walked out the museum doors to the time we actually ordered, we talked about nothing but food, in graphic detail:
Good sushi places in the area, what we like and don't like about them, what kinds of sushi we like and don't like, social events we've been to that offered sushi and other food that was offered, and other notable food experiences in recent weeks. The source material was seemingly endless.
When T. first started dating her husband and came out to visit me in New York, we sat in a little Indian restaurant in Alphabet City and she told me, plate for plate and glass for glass, about the places he had taken her in their first weeks of wooing. I was riveted.
In high school, my mother was reading aloud to
Roni and me from the Events section of the local paper, trying to get us to do something other than loll around and bemoan our boy status. About one event, she read, "Music, Free Food....Free food, [wonderturtle], you should go!" A comment that Roni has yet to forget about.
Last week, at physical therapy for
the ankle, I overheard one of the doctors talking about a Thai restaurant in town, and I could not resist turning around from my painful stretches to chime in about its fabulousness. When he began describing one of their best entrees, my face must have contorted into a noticeable expression of bliss, because he turned to the woman getting hand therapy and said appreciatively, "Look at her--she loves food."
And there it is. WT + Food 4EVA