Holiday break: Time for some light joy
This is the last post before a break for the holiday season. I had two upscale restaurant lunches last week, as les fêtes kick off here. One was with a group of seven women at a large upscale restaurant; the other was with one friend at a cozy neighbourhood buvette. Could not be more different. The Fancy Place was jammed, the waiters mustered a clipped politesse and the kitchen cooked fish perfectly, but garnished the plates with two miniscule, steamed broccoli florets. Those florets were emblematic:who summons joy with broccoli? Leaving with one of the group, herself a chef, we noticed neither the staff nor guests were smiling. Fancy restaurant, muted joy The servers, run off their feet, seemed to be praying not for peace on Earth but for no substitutions; the hostesses didn't make eye contact. I wondered why the patrons looked so glum, too. My chef friend said, "This place is full of women who don't like to eat. They are angry because they're supposed to."...
