My Ratatouille moment

There's a scene in the movie "Ratatouille" where a culinary critic has a flashback to his childhood as he takes a bite of homemade ratatouille. I had that same feeling this evening.

I'd just arrived home from the Pug Party on my street after sitting in lawn chairs with my elderly neighbors and our dogs. It had been a quiet, pleasant evening and I was starving. I made salmon roulette and asparagus risotto, and upon the first bite I was instantly transported to the Culinary Institute of America in Napa. Brian and I spent our two year anniversary there and I ordered the asparagus risotto. I've never had such a heavenly food, and had never been so overwhelmingly happy with my life and relationship.

That brief taste and its ensuing epicurean memory helped me remember why I'm patient while he's gone. There is so much to rejoice about when we're together, and still so much to look forward to in our future. Better than those nights spent on dates, are the evenings spent at home slow dancing in our living room.



On a slightly sad note, I had a sleep paralysis episode this afternoon during a nap. It wasn't a nightmare, rather it was a dream in which Brian came home. I could see the silhouette against our kitchen wall of the sliding glass door opening, and a figure stepping in. The sound was so real that I did start to feel nervous.

That emotion immediately replaced itself with joy when Brian strode up to the couch I was sleeping on in our living room and kissed me hello. I was so ecstatic I could almost burst, until consciousness came flooding back into my mind.

And he was gone. I cried my eyes out until the disappointment and shock disappeared.