Dinner with Doreen: A Six-Course Feast

1. Diving In

The curtains open: a glass of dry Prosecco dampened with elderflower nectar arrives. A haunting touch.

The Prelude: Crunch of oozing Brie and tangy Endive leaves, those curvaceous teeth grinders.

You can imagine how the blur arrived in this room.

We knew the evening was special when…. In the midst of a conversation about the flummoxing serendipitous coincidences of time and space that can happen, a rose arrives called Prophecy.

Glasses clinked and were exchanged.

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2. Gnocchied

Following close behind the exquisite salad, a delectable melange of roasted Cherry Tomatoes, sautéed Kale, and Parmesan arrives. Gnocchi lands in your mouth — guttural mist of secret letters. An erogenous zone yet to be named.

Swiftly it overtakes you.
The tongue, the roof of your mouth,
a full-throated AHHHHHHHH.

Gone Gnocchi.

That moment that preceded this one,
you worried about the world,
you worried about almost anything.

Now?

Gnocchied, your body sighs delight tip to toe.

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3. Iceland’s Bounty

Could this Icelandic Cod be any more delicious.

A bed of Cauliflower purée, zucchini, radish and their sprouts, topped with curry lemongrass foam.

The sauce glows electric with longing.

Eat me!

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4. Timing Taste

It is hard to imagine how this Scallop, Alberta Steak, Chinese Bok Choi and Shiitake Mushroom are perfectly timed to arrive at the table at this moment when everything has settled into a place where tree roots talk.

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5. A Melting

A lozenge-shaped collage of pork belly softness melting.

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6. Citron Sorbet Citron Sorbet Citron

Because Sorbet Citron is a welcoming sensorium, Doreen festoons it with a tiny perfect Basil sprout and warm Gin.

Paradise slipping past your ululating uvula.

Give me too much.

Other guests come and go.

We remain.

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+ (Metafiction: Documenting Delight)

While eating, we intermittently documented the progress of our meal. A contemporary pastime.

That in itself was entertaining.

Witness this —

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6+ Entering the Culinary Ether Zone

• 

• 

I can’t remember the moment I opiumed out, so to speak. Perhaps it was this coda course: one chocolate ganache cake on a swish of blackberry preserve.

Inside this culinary ether zone, a bitter sweet transporting aroma enters my brain.

Soon enough we find ourselves outside oohing and ahhing about all that came before.

We cross the street to City Hall.

A voluminous pot of flowers glows in the night.

The camera registers all that remains — this taste blossoms on my tongue.

This.