Oh, those were such fine, fat, full-flavoured birds from Bresse - one taste, and I realized that I had long ago forgotten what real chicken tasted like! But La Truite's true glory was its sole a la normande, a poem of poached and flavoured sole fillets surrounded by oysters and mussels, and napped with a wonder-sauce of wine, cream, and butter, and topped with fluted mushrooms. "Voluptuous" was the word. I had never imagined that fish could be taken so seriously, or taste so heavenly.
Chapter 1, Part 4: Ali-Bab
I adore that! "Voluptuous!" "A poem of poached and flavoured sole fillets!" She uses just the right words to get to me - make me shiver and laugh softly and indulgently to myself as though it's an inside joke between us. Isn't her last sentence just a dream! Go on - read it again. Isn't it just?
Dear Bouquet of sharpened pencils
ReplyDeleteI enjoy your explanations I am carried away of your joy and exuberance of the painted word. There is wonderful bubbling of emotions of one to another the cascading of life itself.You are like a silk scarf under the drench sunlit breeze.
Dear one Now, you take care.
Wouldn't it be amazing to cook something that could be described as a poem! (I don't expect I ever will - perhaps dinner is more like a limerick in my house! Ha Ha!) But it does invite me to consider the gift, the blessing & the legacy of our lives that we share with others. Could my life be a poem to another, through gentle words of encouragement,comfort or understanding - a stanza they always remember?
ReplyDeleteDear Book Florist, your reflections are a delicately crafted poem, infused with deep insights,flavoured with joyfulness,topped with generous portions of imagination & playfulness -in a word - 'volumptuous'!