This Month's Story

Several years ago I spent some time at the University of Liege in Belgium. I had been there before and found it a nice place to visit. So, when I had a chance to make an extended stay, I took it.

It’s their food that I really enjoy. There is, of course, the normal European cuisine and amenities. For example, while Stella was fixing the eggs for breakfast, I would run downstairs and get fresh, still warm from the oven bread from the baker a few feet from our door. And later in the day, she would go out and buy fresh local produce and other ingredients for that night’s supper.

But there is more to their food than the typical European atmosphere and fare. Their food is different. It took me a little while to get used to the differences, but once I did I was delighted. It was gourmet food with a flair.

Imagine roast goose neck! Whole squab in aspic! My friends took pleasure in taking me to places that would leave me wondering what it was I had eaten. So, I was puzzled when two close friends took me on a farewell outing to a place they said served steak.

Just getting there was an adventure. We retraced our path several times, each of my two friends claiming the other had given wrong directions. But once there, it was worth the trouble. The food was, as usual, different. And that difference was delightful.

The restaurant specialized in a main entrée that was exceptional cuts of seasoned aged prime beef. These were cooked a piece at a time on a hot book-sized stone that was placed in front of each of us. How the stone retained its heat during the meal was beyond me, but it did.

As we sat and talked, I noticed an elderly couple at a table near us. The man was heavy set and sat stolidly addressing his meat, cutting long thin slivers and placing them on the hot stone. Then, when the meat was seared to his satisfaction, he would place it carefully in his mouth. Once there, he chewed each piece in a thoughtful, almost reflective manner, before leaning forward and cutting the next piece.

His small wife, and I suppose she had to be his wife, I can’t imagine any mistress or friend remaining there as she did, sitting opposite him with a dour look that seemed to encompass her whole being. Her eating mannerism was distinctly different from his. She addressed her food with a chicken-like stare, and then cutting several small chunks, cooked each thoroughly to a near-burn. Then she placed each in her mouth where it disappeared without any show of taste or pleasure. There would be a long pause, as if waiting for some inner trapdoor to close, and then she would start anew.

This is not what attracted my attention. What was unusual that throughout their meal there was no conversation! None! He meditatively sliced and munched; she looked, diced and swallowed. All of this without one word between them.

The two had been there when we came in and we were well into our meal when I realized they were leaving. He walked ponderously ahead of her, a ship in the roads; passing the tables as if they were marker buoys. The woman, moving like a small sparrow, scurried after him.

Did the man and his wife know one another so well that they had nothing more to say to one another? Or that each knew what the other was thinking and nothing needed to be said.

I watched them for a brief moment as they departed and then was drawn back into the spirited conversation of my friends and a wonderfully, delightful meal. Friends, good friends, leave great memories and when good friend are combined with good food, great meals become superb meals.

I’ll always remember that strange couple, but I’ll also always remember that meal with my very good friends.

Last year I took Stella out to dinner on our wedding anniversary. We went to a small restaurant in a nearby town. I had arranged everything including the menu beforehand. Stella had not the slightest clue. The chef fixed an exceptionally meal and slowly as we sat at the table and talked, the food was brought out, one course at a time, each different, each wonderfully complementing the last course.

We had a wonderful time.

Our conversation during the evening ranged over many things and I was surprised when they came to us with the bill. What did we talk about? I haven’t the foggiest idea, but we did enjoy ourselves and I look forward to the meal we have together at the end of the next thirty or so years.

A lot of things will have happened and we’ll have a great deal to talk about.

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