So I became facebook friends with a friend of a friend a week or so ago. I didn't know this person, but she had met and liked a couple of people that I love, so when she told me she was new to the area too, and would I like hang out sometime, um..."yes," I said. Confirmed.
My new facebook friend that is now my new real life friend came into the city last night to run some errands, and so we met and had dinner. I help people with this simple little act multiple evenings a week. I have a station filled with tables, and couples or groups or parties of two will walk in, sit, sometimes order drinks...I tell them the specials, and they spend the remainder of their time, most of the time, sharing conversation and story over a meal. Oh how I love this act. The process of a meal, fit with desired company and interesting honest conversation is one of my very favorite things. I genuinely enjoy serving tables that know how to enjoy its process, and genuine enjoyment comes from an appreciation of the food and the company. It's been kind of a tease for me, regularly helping people with one of my very favorite things without getting to experience the process for myself much at all.
I do not concede completely. I still go out and have dinners alone, annoyingly engaging my server as much as I can. And though a meal with myself is genuinely a lovely experience, one that a friend of a friend has referred to as "liberating," it's not the same as one with company.
Last night's dinner was one of those simple things that, because of my decision to uproot, I have really, really been missing. To say that I enjoyed my meal, fit with interesting conversation, sipped drinks, culminated with savored dessert, would be an extreme understatement.
One of our conversation topics was the ever cliche weather. We didn't discuss that of Russia, but my facebook-real-life-friend had lived in Seattle, and one of the things she relayed were its "awful summers". Wha? Waaaiiiit a minute. That's something I think Seattle has in it's corner..."It never gets really hot there, you know?" Yes. I know. And I like. "I went swimming maybe twice...I am used to Oklahoma summers, and I like for there to be a season of some almost unbearable heat." Eeek.
What makes some people love a place may turn someone else off. I explained to her that I like to be able to run outside all year long, and the unbearable heat we have experienced here makes it difficult for me to want to leave the house. "Seattle would be great for that," she said.
We have this dish at Posto, where I work, called "mezzeluna". I get quizzed on it regularly, before my shift. It's half moon shaped pasta stuffed with pancetta and stracchino cheese...tossed in a light olive oil white wine sauce...and finished with english pea, tomato concasse, and finally, black olive. There are some people that order it simply because of the last ingredient. They will order almost anything because it's finished with olives. I loathe olives. Their taste causes the gag reflex in the back of my throat. I've ordered the mezzeluna before, and I asked my server to have the olives left in the kitchen.
This contrast, like a shared meal, is also one of my very favorite things. My facebook-real-life-friend made her way here for a job, having just finished attaining a masters degree. I made it here as something more of an experiment, with sort of direction but more ambiguity that anything. She likes the heat I have trouble bearing. Some people like olives, others are vegan, steak eaters, liberals, democrats, moderate conservatives, day-time professionals, night-time professionals, decaf drinkers, religious fanatics, coffee haters, and somewhere in the mix of all of that, people find a way to enjoy meals, company, and conversations, despite, and sometimes because of, differing tastes and opinions.
Cheers to enjoying something simple you've been missing, and to someone doing something different than you, and it being okay.
No comments:
Post a Comment