“So what do you think?”
MB and I are whispering in the kitchen.
“I mean, I guess we could,” he says.
“Is it too much? Maybe it is too much.” I am feeling doubtful as I look over at my guests.
“Well, it is probably too much but who cares?”
This seems like a good point and I grab the jar of foie gras out of the cupboard. A friend of mine from the U.S. is staying with is for one night with two of his ski buddies that I have just met. Even though they are not hungry and we are going to fondue later that evening, I cannot resist the urge to ply them with French goodies. I have already put out a cheese plate and now I am pulling out a bottle of sauterne and onion confit for the foie gras.
“Wait! We don’t have baguette!” MB says.
“That’s okay,” I say, throwing on my coat. “I will go and buy some!”
MB looks at me incredulously.
“Yeah, it’s totally fine, you stay here and drink wine. I’ll be right back.”
MB can’t believe his luck; this never happens.
Normally, to get me to leave the house at night time when it is about -10˚C (7˚F) there would need to be some sort of disaster, maybe there is a burglar or a fire…even then, it is possible I would choose death over being cold (depending on how much wine I have consumed). However, the mere notion of being able to serve foie gras for the first time to two people I’ve never met has me shooting out of the house like some sort of weird food-oriented super hero (maybe with an “FG” logo on my unitard…and a slight pot belly).
Upon return from the bakery, I crack open the foie gras and pour the wine. I watch, expectantly as our two guests try their first ever bit of foie gras. Casually I take a sip of my wine, acting as though I don’t care at all whether or not they think it is totally amazing.
Slowly, one of them begins to speak. “It’s-,” he breaks off and takes another bite. “It’s not what I expected.”
“Not what you expected good or not what you expected bad?” My voice sounds tense as I desperately try to keep my cool disinterest.
“Definitely, definitely not what I expected in a good way.”
Throughout my entire life, I have cherished the moments when I’ve been able to watch someone else enjoy something that I, too, have enjoyed. It’s like sharing a wonderful secret. Once, in a book store a lady exclaimed loudly at me in excited terms about a book that I was considering buying, her family looked at her aghast at her show of enthusiasm towards a completely random individual; but I totally got it. One of the most wonderful gifts of our existence is to share the things that give us joy. It’s the reason your neighbor comes to make you fondue, or why you take your parents to your favorite spot in a new town, it’s why you sit through a movie you’ve seen a million times just so someone else can see it for the first, and it’s why, with a migraine headache in -10˚ weather, you will run out to buy baguette for two brand new acquaintances.