Amuse Bouche

I am not a foodie. I thought about it for a time when I dated a guy that knew how to create an amazing meal from the most random ingredients, but it didn’t really stick. Let’s face it, when I’m hungry, I eat. That doesn’t leave much room for artful concoctions or presentations as I tend to nibble the ingredients away first:)

Plus, I have an amazing ability to eat the same thing over and over. For years. My current obsession? Sweet and spicy popcorn. I invented it (okay, probably not really, but I doubt there’s a patent anywhere) after one of my students was talking about cinnamon sugar toast and my gluten free belly got jealous. Here’s the completely not-fit-for-a-cookbook recipe:

1) Make popcorn – I put kernelsĀ in a plain brown lunch bag, fold the top over a few times, and put in the microwave. Look ma, chemical-free microwave popcorn!

2) Melt a little bit of coconut oil and drizzle over popcorn.

3) Top with salt, stevia, cinnamon and….chili powder.

Serious yum. Just don’t ask me for proper wine pairings.

During my brief foray into foodieism, I was treated to a meal like no other – endless courses paired with matching cocktails that ignited areas of my palate I didn’t know existed. The entire restaurant held less than a dozen tables and the chef, as though on a stage, occupied a central kitchen. It was an amazing, and entirely foreign, experience for me.

I was also introduced that night to a concept familiar to those in the restaurant world – amuse bouche.

An amuse bouche is a little tidbit, a morsel, that the chef prepares while you’re waiting for your first course. It is intended to awaken the palate and to highlight the chef’s talent. The term literally translates to “mouth amuser.”

What a cool idea.

The amuse bouche is never intended to be a stand alone meal. It is not designed to meet all of your nutritional needs nor will it ever fill you up.

It is just a little smile, a hint of anticipation, a distraction from your rumbling belly.

Looking back, much of my dating (aka Match Madness) was like a series of amuse bouches (the plural may be completely grammatically incorrect but you get the idea) – little dates that were never intended to fulfill the needs of a real relationship. Distractions from my rumbling brain. Hints of what was to come when it was time for the real thing.

Amuse redez-vous.

It’s okay to smile while waiting you’re waiting for the real thing.

 

 

 

 

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