The Shiny Wears Off.
An interlude while I wait for my Ireland pictures to come back for the posting on Hubby's Birthday DInner
a recollection repeated
Jimmy and Erika, newly married, were on their honeymoon. This is the story they recounted to us over dinner when they returned, reimagined, embellished and yes -- very truthful.
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At the restaurant overlooking the Park, they, newlyweds, wait to be served, and find themselves side by side with an older couple, who in their late and elegant fifties, are conversing quietly in French, their low voices lilting with animated familiarity, and punctuated with deliciously flirtatious smiles. The patrician woman, in a simple dove grey shift dress leans towards her companion, whose austere features are softened by the blue eyes focused solely on her. Whatever she says to him elicits laughter.
Erika's concentration is momentarily broken when the waiter brings a bottle of champagne to their table, pouring two flutes full. A geyser of bubbles surface through the golden liquid and Jimmy raises his flute to his wife.
"Happy anniversary," he says.
"We just got married," she answers.
"A week ago today," he says. "So Happy First Week Anniversary."
The couple next to them are watching them and the woman lifts her wine glass. "Congratulations," she says with a smile.
"Thank you," says Erika.
"We're celebrating our anniversary too," the woman says. She glances warmly at her companion.
"How many years have you been together?" asks Erika.
"Thirty-two years," says the man. "We met when she was twenty-six and I was thirty-one." There's no trace of an accent in either voice and Erika realizes that they were speaking French to keep their conversation intimately private.
"Well congratulations to you too," says Erika. "I hope when we've been married thirty-two years we'll still look as happy as you do."
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a piece of pseudo fiction:
When Hortense's affair begins, Hortense is consumed with the joy, the excitement, the passion, the wide range of emotions that accompany the illicit and ill-starred event.
When Hortense's husband, Wolfgang (obviously not their real names) finds out, they enact all the cliches, ending in divorce, her moving out, and much to Wolfgang's chagrin, taking up with her boyfriend within a week of their divorce.
Even in his bitterness, Wolfgang can't help but to say, "I suppose if I'd been paying attention to her, she wouldn't be with her boyfriend now."
Personally I think it's crock, but he believes it so.
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the overheard conversation at a cafe
The girl: Would you judge me if I told you I was having an affair?
The friend: Are you?
The girl: Would you judge me?
The friend: How could you?
The girl: I see.
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the sound of heartbreak...
...is a man keeled over in your living room brokenly asking both of you the question you can't answer for him ("Why?)" after he finds (and shows you) a love letter from his wife to another man.
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the recollection revisited
"Well congratulations to you too," says Erika. "I hope when we've been married thirty-two years we'll still look as happy as you do."
"Thank you dear," says the woman genially. "But we're not married to each other. We've been having an affair for thirty-two years."
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The Shiny Wears Off
This is strawberry shortcake. It was so delicious when I first had it that I kept making and eating it even after the summer ended and I knew the strawberries were no good until finally the shiny wore off and it lost its yumminess -- it was so intoxicating at first --and so sweet on the first bite -- but when you start to indulge, the aftertaste is slightly bitter.
Much like an affair, n'est-ce pas?
Strawberry Shortcake
(This makes 4 large, 6 medium or 8 small shortcakes depending on your the size of your cookie cutter)
1 1/2 cups all purpose flour
3 tablespoons
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, cold, cut into 1 inch pieces
1/2 cup cold buttermilk
1 pint strawberries, hulled, and macerated in a simple syrup (or water & sugar). Liqueur optional.
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Preheat oven to 425°F.
In a food processor, blend the the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Add butter and pulse the processor until the mixture resembles coarse meal. Add 1/2 cup buttermilk and process until the batter is moist and lumpy. Turn the dough onto a lightly floured board (I use the Silpat) and gently press the dough to 1/2 inch thickness. Use a ring cutter to cut out the shortcakes, working together the scraps to continue making shortcakes.
Transfer the shortcakes to a baking sheet lined with a Silpat or with parchment paper. Brush the shortcakes with 2 T buttermilk and sprinkle Turbinado sugar (or plain sugar) on top. Bake until the shortcakes are golden and a tester comes out clean, approximately 15 minutes (my oven is a convection oven so it takes about 12 minutes).
Cool on a rack. The shortcakes can be prepared in advanced.
To assemble: gently slice off the top 1/4 inch of the shortcake and brush with the macerate strawberry syrup. Pile strawberries on top and finish off with fresh whipped cream.
OMG - it matters not where in the world you are - you are back! Screw with my mind back. What fun.
Much like an affair, n'est-ce pas? Oui! My dad my us strawberry shortcake all summer.
Posted by: Tanna | October 17, 2007 at 07:13 AM
You are a brilliant writer. I always enjoy your blog, but these past two posts have been incredible.
Posted by: emiglia | October 17, 2007 at 07:28 AM
Whew!
I always leave your site having been romanced by the prose, and left thinking by the content.
Posted by: Tea | October 17, 2007 at 11:06 AM
I love strawberry shortcake, but I've never thought of it that way before ;). I love your writing, so different from the rest of the foodblogosphere.
Posted by: Nan | October 19, 2007 at 08:33 AM
Now that was unexpected! Just like life.
It looks like you had a smashng trip!
Posted by: s'kat | October 25, 2007 at 10:15 AM
Tanna -- :-) You rock.
Emiglia - thank you so much; that is very kind of you!
Tea - You are so sweet.
Nan - I'm so glad you're enjoying reading as much as I'm enjoying writing!
S'kat - yeah, I remember when Jimmy and Erika told us, we were just slack jawed. :-)
Posted by: cath | October 29, 2007 at 08:42 PM