Part 1 of 9. How I fell in love with my wife. A paid series from the 365 collection. This first post is available to free subscribers. Subsequent posts will be subscriber only.
Delicious. Extravagant. Thank you for the secret passage through the back door to the invisible spot behind the potted fern, where I'm standing very still, inhaling the privileged spices and watching the line of heat vibrate between the smart staff and the tippling clientele. It's dizzying. How to come back to plain earth?
“…and the command of details lent us an illusory, brief edge-of-table power. We could explain both with words and subtle hand movements how the parts and techniques comprised the sublime culinary whole – gesticulating “smoothing” and “sprinkling” and “gently folding” like auditioning hand models.”
Olfactory senses on overload. Even the nocturnal bouquet of expensive perfumes permeates the air.
Writing so descriptive it’s palpable. I’m in the theatre , watching the movie . Pass the popcorn.
(P.S. On a personal note ,thank you for letting me in the side door…)
Tara said it well. This is delicious and extravagant writing Adam. It does not surprise me at all that you were a waiter at such a restaurant and I sense that’s where the first shoots of your gift for exquisite detail poked through the soil. Bravo on this first piece in your great love story.
Thanks, Ben. (Weird, I'm having deja vu just now. No, really. 😀) However, I can't remember what I wrote the last time so it is of very little help to me.
Pages and pages of this thrown out, btw, for what that's worth. I had to climb Mt. Discard to get here.
“We could explain both with words and subtle hand movements how the parts and techniques comprised the sublime culinary whole – gesticulating “smoothing” and “sprinkling” and “gently folding” like auditioning hand models.” Sublime. Decadent. I’m hungry.
There’s so much to savor in this essay, I won’t try to do a Tara Penry. So I’ll single out one detail: how you dropped your position as a waiter into the middle of the piece instead of telling the reader up top how you acquired your panoramic view—from space, it would seem— of this glittering enterprise. In my enthrallment, I didn’t think to ask, “Who is telling this story?” You handed the revelation to me on its tray, like an amuse-bouche I wasn’t expecting. Much hangs on this detail. You took the storytelling road less traveled, a breathtaking choice
❤️ You got it, Rona. That was the click of the lock for me writing it. You can’t imagine the plates of uneaten sentences that went into the bin in that piece, but that decision I trusted. It created the whole voice. Obviously I felt it before in someone else’s story, but the surprise of a narrator’s identity has a kind of godlike authority. “And so we begin our tale in my kingdom…”
Movies do this all the time and it never grows old. “Oh my god! He’s the dog! He’s the dog.”
Spago was the big rival that Maple Drive never surpassed, but probably stole some business from early on. For about a year the restaurant was pretty amazing. Oddly enough, it was best pre-Grammys and Oscars.
Brilliant. I too have worked service in some great restaurants and am familiar with that invisible line from the table to the kitchen. It was always difficult to walk if you knew the message you were delivering was going to be poorly received so working in an establishment that was open to all requests would have been refreshing (I'm not saying easy!).
Riveting. Felt like I was there. Your command of details is so entertaining. Besides “ walking her miniature dog collection,” my favorites are “adrenaline burst of flame from a sauté pan; the gravel buzz of metal scooping into crushed ice” - never has that ice-scoop sound been better described. 🙃🧊
Delicious. Extravagant. Thank you for the secret passage through the back door to the invisible spot behind the potted fern, where I'm standing very still, inhaling the privileged spices and watching the line of heat vibrate between the smart staff and the tippling clientele. It's dizzying. How to come back to plain earth?
Tara, your comment captures all--beautifully written.
“…and the command of details lent us an illusory, brief edge-of-table power. We could explain both with words and subtle hand movements how the parts and techniques comprised the sublime culinary whole – gesticulating “smoothing” and “sprinkling” and “gently folding” like auditioning hand models.”
Olfactory senses on overload. Even the nocturnal bouquet of expensive perfumes permeates the air.
Writing so descriptive it’s palpable. I’m in the theatre , watching the movie . Pass the popcorn.
(P.S. On a personal note ,thank you for letting me in the side door…)
I can't believe I let so much time pass here. It's been a massive catch-up to get through so many wonderful comments! Apologies for the delay.
Someone else, btw, liked this paragraph, too. Yay, me.
There were, no doubt, expensive perfumes on expensive plastic surgery.
Seriously! Never feel like you have to apologize. Who has time for writing, comments and, LIFE.
PS. I think the new DMs is a lousy idea. Letting people send you personal messages seems a great path to ‘time sucking’ agony.
Tara said it well. This is delicious and extravagant writing Adam. It does not surprise me at all that you were a waiter at such a restaurant and I sense that’s where the first shoots of your gift for exquisite detail poked through the soil. Bravo on this first piece in your great love story.
Thanks, Ben. (Weird, I'm having deja vu just now. No, really. 😀) However, I can't remember what I wrote the last time so it is of very little help to me.
Pages and pages of this thrown out, btw, for what that's worth. I had to climb Mt. Discard to get here.
I’ve just stepped into another dimension so far removed from my own, but damn I want more! Hooked!
Ha! Thanks, Susie. May I hold up my end of the bargain here. 😀
Je suis sans doute! BTW, on the other subject - all is sorted !
“We could explain both with words and subtle hand movements how the parts and techniques comprised the sublime culinary whole – gesticulating “smoothing” and “sprinkling” and “gently folding” like auditioning hand models.” Sublime. Decadent. I’m hungry.
Thanks, Kimberly! Imagine hand movement with raised thumb and clenched fingers, but not one that you would use at a table at Maple Drive. 🤣
There’s so much to savor in this essay, I won’t try to do a Tara Penry. So I’ll single out one detail: how you dropped your position as a waiter into the middle of the piece instead of telling the reader up top how you acquired your panoramic view—from space, it would seem— of this glittering enterprise. In my enthrallment, I didn’t think to ask, “Who is telling this story?” You handed the revelation to me on its tray, like an amuse-bouche I wasn’t expecting. Much hangs on this detail. You took the storytelling road less traveled, a breathtaking choice
❤️ You got it, Rona. That was the click of the lock for me writing it. You can’t imagine the plates of uneaten sentences that went into the bin in that piece, but that decision I trusted. It created the whole voice. Obviously I felt it before in someone else’s story, but the surprise of a narrator’s identity has a kind of godlike authority. “And so we begin our tale in my kingdom…”
Movies do this all the time and it never grows old. “Oh my god! He’s the dog! He’s the dog.”
Genius foundation for meeting Mel, I’m so looking forward to the rest. David also just gave me all his Spago stories, so thank you for prompting that
Spago was the big rival that Maple Drive never surpassed, but probably stole some business from early on. For about a year the restaurant was pretty amazing. Oddly enough, it was best pre-Grammys and Oscars.
Remind me to one day tell you about the Grammys party that David got fired for throwing
You had me at Dudley Moore playing a white piano.
He was crazy talented and a showman. (And not a bad restaurateur)
Brilliant. I too have worked service in some great restaurants and am familiar with that invisible line from the table to the kitchen. It was always difficult to walk if you knew the message you were delivering was going to be poorly received so working in an establishment that was open to all requests would have been refreshing (I'm not saying easy!).
The customer was always right. The messenger less so. 😂
Right!!
Riveting. Felt like I was there. Your command of details is so entertaining. Besides “ walking her miniature dog collection,” my favorites are “adrenaline burst of flame from a sauté pan; the gravel buzz of metal scooping into crushed ice” - never has that ice-scoop sound been better described. 🙃🧊
Agreed! I heard and felt those lines, too!