Reverb10 Prompt 3
Dec. 3rd, 2010 01:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
crankyoldmanDecember 3 – Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors).
So, it was all about food.
I'm one of those people that eats lunch alone a lot. Not in the sits in the bathroom and eats a sandwich way, but I go out to eat lunch. Not always economical, but food is one of those things that I pretty much do not budge on when it comes to finances; there's being EXTRAVAGANT about it, but I think it's been very good for my well-being to go eat out at places if they fit under certain parameters (McDonalds is not eating out properly). I would sooner sell all my earthly possessions than give up up eating well or at least interestingly.
It was a day in May or June, I'm not sure, and I had decided it was my go out and eat lunch day. Very bright and sunny outside, but not oppressively hot, the kind of day that makes me wonder if I can somehow manage to live in one of those climates that is like that nearly all the time. Since I work downtown it's a pretty comfortable walk to a lot of very good local restaurants where I have time to sit and eat without having to rush back to work and ruin the mood.
I ended up on the sidewalk portion of my favorite restaurant, the Uptown Cafe, which serves Creole inspired food in a very nice atmosphere. But the best place to sit is out on the sidewalk when it's warm enough, so that you can see down the street and the people walking by.
I'd ordered one of my favorite cheaper items on the menu, an eggless Caesar salad with capers in it that is simple, but very delicious and a green tea. I'd brought a book with me, as I tend to, hoping to get chapter read but I hadn't touched it. Time slowed down as I ate my salad, the saltiness of the capers and the sourness of the vinegar-based dressing making my tongue tingle while the crunch of the lettuce hit my teeth as Parmesan evened the taste out. I took a sip of warm tea and then breathed in the warm air, which was clean despite being urban, smelling a little leafy with a hint of lightly fragrant flowers.
My town can be exceedingly beautiful, especially in spring. Everything was saturated in color, and even the artist types that tended to walk by in sober black had decided to take a break that day. I thought about the fact that I should be there in that moment, to have the freedom and the means to be sitting in that moment, eating my food and having the time to pause and it felt very profound.
Someone in high heeled shoes clicked down the sidewalk and the false silence was broken, and life started again.
Some people sky dive, some people surround themselves with friends to feel alive. But there is probably nothing better to me than to be able to sit down to a good meal on a nice day, and take the time to taste everything, let the setting soak into me. Everywhere I go I try to find a moment like this, and everywhere I've lived I've managed to find one, if it's not outside on a spring day, then it's inside a somewhat pretentious coffee house in my old college town having a crepe and a specialty tea, while philosophy majors get into arguments around me. Or in a crowded Irish bar with corned beef and some sauce with mayo and horseradish, drinking a dark beer and waiting to launch into a discussion about Communism. Or sitting down with my family in an Italian restaurant in Texas, eating Pasta Carbonara that was prepared right at the table before me, sipping a white wine and being glad for one of the few times in my life to be in air conditioning.
It's good to engage all the senses, I suppose.
So, it was all about food.
I'm one of those people that eats lunch alone a lot. Not in the sits in the bathroom and eats a sandwich way, but I go out to eat lunch. Not always economical, but food is one of those things that I pretty much do not budge on when it comes to finances; there's being EXTRAVAGANT about it, but I think it's been very good for my well-being to go eat out at places if they fit under certain parameters (McDonalds is not eating out properly). I would sooner sell all my earthly possessions than give up up eating well or at least interestingly.
It was a day in May or June, I'm not sure, and I had decided it was my go out and eat lunch day. Very bright and sunny outside, but not oppressively hot, the kind of day that makes me wonder if I can somehow manage to live in one of those climates that is like that nearly all the time. Since I work downtown it's a pretty comfortable walk to a lot of very good local restaurants where I have time to sit and eat without having to rush back to work and ruin the mood.
I ended up on the sidewalk portion of my favorite restaurant, the Uptown Cafe, which serves Creole inspired food in a very nice atmosphere. But the best place to sit is out on the sidewalk when it's warm enough, so that you can see down the street and the people walking by.
I'd ordered one of my favorite cheaper items on the menu, an eggless Caesar salad with capers in it that is simple, but very delicious and a green tea. I'd brought a book with me, as I tend to, hoping to get chapter read but I hadn't touched it. Time slowed down as I ate my salad, the saltiness of the capers and the sourness of the vinegar-based dressing making my tongue tingle while the crunch of the lettuce hit my teeth as Parmesan evened the taste out. I took a sip of warm tea and then breathed in the warm air, which was clean despite being urban, smelling a little leafy with a hint of lightly fragrant flowers.
My town can be exceedingly beautiful, especially in spring. Everything was saturated in color, and even the artist types that tended to walk by in sober black had decided to take a break that day. I thought about the fact that I should be there in that moment, to have the freedom and the means to be sitting in that moment, eating my food and having the time to pause and it felt very profound.
Someone in high heeled shoes clicked down the sidewalk and the false silence was broken, and life started again.
Some people sky dive, some people surround themselves with friends to feel alive. But there is probably nothing better to me than to be able to sit down to a good meal on a nice day, and take the time to taste everything, let the setting soak into me. Everywhere I go I try to find a moment like this, and everywhere I've lived I've managed to find one, if it's not outside on a spring day, then it's inside a somewhat pretentious coffee house in my old college town having a crepe and a specialty tea, while philosophy majors get into arguments around me. Or in a crowded Irish bar with corned beef and some sauce with mayo and horseradish, drinking a dark beer and waiting to launch into a discussion about Communism. Or sitting down with my family in an Italian restaurant in Texas, eating Pasta Carbonara that was prepared right at the table before me, sipping a white wine and being glad for one of the few times in my life to be in air conditioning.
It's good to engage all the senses, I suppose.