Perhaps I had been a little overly optimistic.
Lol, last night I went to get something to eat in the area in which I am staying. They seemed to speak and understand English fairly well when I asked what the best thing to eat was, and enthusiastic to boot. When I pointed to the prepackaged paperboard container the chef was pulling from the microwave and asked, if that was my food? Lol, cooked in the microwave? They had spontaneously forgotten any English they once had know and lost all interest in me.
Now I am not a full-on foodie, whatsoever. I enjoy nice meals, tasty, nourishing, interesting, inspiring meals. But I certainly focus on and remember the company with which I’ve shared fantastic meals.
I have a dazzling memory of first having Coney Island Dogs with my friend Todd in his local area of Massachusetts. Lol, I can still remember the surroundings and the taste. We were visiting where he had most recently lived and we went to the “package store” for lunch. Of course I said, I would have whatever he suggested. A Coney Island dog is not a culinary delicacy, and probably considered far from. But it is a wonderful memory for me.
The other night, the Norwegian couple invited me out to dinner with them. Another female friend from Sweden and her male visitor came along as well. I had the un pleasure of sitting next to said male friend. Apparently he had visited the Caribbean at some point as it came up in conversation. The company inquired about the local cuisine which he quickly discounted as just bad. I tried to er a word in edgewise, which was quite a challenge. And then when you feel you have to burst into a conversation to even participate, it certainly dulls the sparkle of the moment. So I tried to contribute that during one of my many family trips to the Caribbean, British Virgin Islands, French West Indies, Northern Antilles (?)… that the memories I have were not of the food itself. When you are in such an incredible place, enjoying those closest to you, what is the point of a meal beyond gathering together for replenishment.
Some of my favorite memories are of being on a sailboat with my sisters and parents. As well as being on a sailboat with friends. Waking up together. Breakfast, coffee, bathroom run if possible. Pulling anchor and setting sail. Snacking or a light lunch while underway. Dropping anchor, swimming, showering. Dressing in dry clothes and either taking the dinghy to shore for a meal, or cooking what we had or had caught on the boat. Evening were a time of lingering at the table. Playing cards, talking, laughing. Then slowly one by one retiring to our bunks with the anticipation of doing it all over again.
Not sure where this story started, but it has finished in a very comforting, cozy and happy place in my memory.