Friday, April 25, 2014

yes I'll have a slice of cold quiche and a hot slice of pride please and thank you

 So last week I ate cold quiche. I have done this before with my own that I have made but while I was eating this one I cried. Thank God for my big 80's sunglasses.

 He and I had eaten there the day's where I had the most delicious thing I have ever had on my tongue.

Him: How is the citron meringue tart?
Me: I can't talk about it right now.
Have you ever tasted anything so magnificent that it made you too emotional to speak?


 I planned my strategy...I looked at the map. I walked there. I passed the church where I had met Him the the day before. There were 100s of people gathered round the church...pouring out into the street even. A line down the street of mourners waiting to get thru the long receiving line of soldiers decked out in their dress feathers sticking up from their tall hats...swords drawn. Streets all a round were closed off and police were everywhere. I found out later it was the previous la maire. He dies w/in weeks of being voted out of office. :(

Anyway because it was a lovely day right around lunch hour...13:00...the cafe was packed inside and out. So I walked across the street to a park and watched the cafe and the police in the streets giving people direction to detour as to not pass the church. I checked my to say "dining here" [sur place]...practice it. Finally it looked like à l'extérieur dining was clearing out. I walk in...the very pleasant girl greets me. I say hello...I ask for 1 slice of this quiche {pointing to it} ask for it to dine here..."oui" she says. She cuts a slice and places it in a paper bag and I move down to the cash register with my Orangina...she is busy {putting it on a plate and warming it I hope} Another sweet Madame comes and says something in French. "This is all" I say by pointing to my soda and saying "formage quiche" while pointing to the girl at the other end of the case...who is still busy doing something. She quotes the total. I pay..."merci"...point outside..."oui" she says. I sit with my soda at a table that is still covered with dishes from some earlier diner. I move the dirty stuff to another table and get a clean glass and flatware from the clean table. She brings my quiche...cold...still in the  brown bag.

 I tear open the bag and begin to eat my cold cheese quiche. It is soft and gooey...not in a good way...more like a mouthful of cold lard. The crust is greasy and bland. I keep eating as my pride and disappointment create such a knot in my throat that I can barely swallow. I get out my postcards and address book (what I planned to do as I savored my lunch) and just let it lay there until I could eat no more. As I walked as fast as I could back to the hotel to hide and lick my wounds til my He got home, I realized a few things about myself in that moment. My pride kept me from seeing naive by asking in my best Franglish to please put it on a plate and warm it. I could have pointed at the microwave on the shelf behind the counter. Who knows maybe they spoke English. It's ok to be naive when you are trying something new. That's what I used to tell my teenagers. You look more stupid if you try and "look" you know what your doing than if you ask how to something you have no experience in. 2nd thing I learned is that I should have been trying more ardently to learn French before I came.

 Oh well too late for any of that but I am following Edna Modes advice..."Never look back, darling! It distracts from the now!"

 It took me a coupla days before I got back on the horse and left the hotel by myself but I have did it everyday until Rachel got here on Saturday...oh did I tell you...RACHEL'S HERE! [that's different blog post]...and since Rachel got here I am even more courageous! Sometimes shop keepers and such don't speak any English and I speak so very very little French but we muttle though somehow. And I pledge never to eat cold quiche again!

1 comment:

  1. two things i love about you -- you are brave, and you are growing <3