Friday, January 20, 2006

Fine Dining

A friend of mine was just blogging about the culinary delights found in Heber City and she recounted the experience of eating orgasmic sea bass at the Snake Creek Grille. I realized I've never even tasted regular sea bass, let alone the orgasmic variety. So now I'm curious. Are its arousing qualities inherent in the sea bass itself--dependent on where it was raised, what it was fed or the particular water current patterns in effect during its life span? Or were the specific combination of herbs and spices used in the preparation responsible? Who knows?

I'm trying to recall if I have ever been so delighted by a dinner entree. If so, I doubt it would've been seafood. (Although the halibut at Sundance could become habit-forming were I able to afford to taste it more than one time.) Some people are similarly excited by exquisite chocolate, but even Godiva didn't do it for me.

However, as I try to recall the best meal I've ever had, I realize a combination of fine chocolate and fine seafood probably came the closest. It was a dinner graciously prepared by one Thierry Cabanne. I was living in Strasbourg at the time, so I'm sure ambiance accounted for something. I can't recall the entire menu. All I remember is it was my first (and only) time with caviar and the mousse au chocolat was divine. I've never had better. Sigh...

Did it rival Lorien's sea bass? I don't know. She said she's going back for more some day. I hope it's good for her.

Saturday, January 07, 2006

Resolution

Recently someone asked a small group of us if we had any good resolutions for the New Year. I kindly kept my mouth shut. The only thing I am resolute about is not having any New Year's Resolutions. I am not opposed to goals and I do have lots of ideas of things I'd like to achieve throughout next year. But the same anti-lemming wiring that makes me run screaming from the latest Oprah book or proudly affirm that I had read that book BEFORE they started printing it with Oprah's seal of approval also makes me resist that futile attempt to be a whole new me for no better reason than the brand new calendar hanging on the wall.

Maybe it's a result of so many years of failure. I would resolve to be someone different--a kinder, gentler (always thinner) me. But no matter how I tried, I would cling to the same foibles and follies that just seem to be part of who I am. Maybe I am resistant to the apparent hypocrisy I always found watching hundreds of resolute dieters flocking to the gym the first three weeks of the year, then dozen by dozen falling off the wagon and abandoning their treadmills. Or maybe I am just too cynical. Who knows?

Perhaps the same part of me that makes me sit down at the end of the day and write my "have-done" list--just so I can feel better about myself--also prefers to look back at the end of the year rather than forward at the beginning. I can look back on 2005 and say, "Wow, this year you got brave and returned to the work force after 16 years. It was scary and you pretty much felt like an obsolete idiot for the first three months, but you did it!" Or, "Wait a minute, how did you get a kid old enough to get a driver's license and start to date? Aren't you proud of yourself for handling his first accident so well?" And, "So you didn't get any remodeling done on the house. You made some new friends, made some good memories with family and friends, tried to be there for people when they needed you and completed a few beautiful quilts. That's something!"

Looking back I see that in 2005 I stretched myself spiritually, musically, professionally and--taking into account my recent enlightening experience with yoga--quite literally physically. And I did so in ways I could never have imagined last January 1. So maybe there's something to be said for simply taking a minute to look back and evaluate the old year, then turning right back around to jump eagerly into the new year to see what it will bring. If I have no expectations then I won't be disappointed. It works for me. What works for you?