I’m only 4 posts in and I’m already starting a post “series”! The arrogance!
Because I’m too poor (impending wedding) and too busy (impending wedding) to eat out frequently at post-worthy places, I came up with this idea yesterday as a way of helping me to blog often even if I don’t have time or new material. It is partly inspired, partly stolen from Lorelai Vashti’s lovely Dress, Memory blog.
Some of my most vivid and fondest memories involve food. The stories that I tell people over and over again with childlike animation are always about food. These stories will be quick and easy to tell, memories sometimes about the food, and other times the food will simply trigger the memory of surrounding events.
The first in the series, starts now.
Astral Restaurant, 25 January 2008
Liquid nitrogen smoking out of a bowl of berries. I would say it was delicious, but I don’t remember. I don’t remember much about the food at all. It was all spoilt by the taste of my own tears. Let me explain.
This fine dining date was to celebrate the second anniversary of dating my now future-husband, Matt. Matt had been overseas for a while in January, and because I missed him sorely I decided to channel all my sad-sack energy into a little “project” that, when completed, I would present to Matt as his anniversary gift. My ingenious plan was to make him 24 Kawasaki roses – 1 for each month we’d been together. So awesome right? “Best girlfriend ever.” my silly little 21-year-old mind thought. When he saw these 24 painstakingly constructed roses (each one took 45 minutes to 1 hour to fold) he would be OVERWHELMED by how much I MUST love him to spend all that time and energy making these beautiful Skill Level: EXPERT origami roses. I don’t know what delusion took over me to make me believe that a BOY would react like that but oh well, I was in my little lonely girl daydream.
Needless to say, his reaction was not what I expected, and when he picked me up from work and I jumped into his car proudly holding a jar full of paper roses (sepals AND stems included!) all I got was a “What the helllll is that?!” expression on his face and the poor man struggling to figure out how to react, while I struggled to hide my disappointment.
Already in a foul mood, when we arrived at (now defunct) Astral restaurant I almost had a rage fit at the waiter when he informed me that only the Degustation menu was available on Friday night – because I was hoping to order a la carte and they failed to inform me of menu rules when I made the reservation. I bullied the waiter into offering us the a la carte anyway, which was EXTREMELY unladylike behaviour for a date in a 2-hat restaurant. No class at all…. but I didn’t care. I was nursing a broken heart over the wasted hours spent on folding paper flowers.
Adding insult to injury, Matt’s present to me was a beautiful Calvin Klein watch. That reallllyyy put my flowers into perspective.
And then to completely ruin the evening, I burst into tears and ran into the ladies after poor Matt had made an innocent and casual remark about my weight. Followed by the embarrassment of walking back into a near-empty, quiet restaurant after obviously having a bit of a cry in the bathroom – the waitstaff must have thought I was absolutely mental.
We spent the rest of the date in silence. Miraculously, we’re still together. The roses are still in tact in one of Matt’s drawers. And that is the story of why I don’t remember what the food tasted like at Astral.