Well there is Marrakesh and all
of the associated sentient triggers there. Sounds, textures, and colors in the
souks. Those great kilim and other colorful textiles house slippers that seem
like just the right things when you are there—only to get them home and declare
“now where the hell will I ever wear these things again”. And the smells…some
not so good and most others really great.
But there was also Skeets
Barbecue near Darlington South Carolina. Their sweet tea that after my being
gone from the South for over twenty-five years throws me into a diabetic swirl
after one glass. But the vinegar based barbecue cuts that filmy sugar right out
of your mouth. Nice.
Then of course there’s boiled
peanuts and my mother’s homemade sourdough bread fresh out of the oven. Hot.
With my aunt Kat’s plum preserves comingled with melted butter. And there was Tant’s
in Birmingham Alabama and cocktails and red meat at Rule’s on Maiden Lane in
London—preferably in the room upstairs—the private one where Bertie, Prince of
Wales entertained his paramour Lily Langtry.
A Kir Royale or a French 75 in
Paris after traipsing through Musee Carnivalet. And dinner at Le Grand Colbert is
appealing again, too. Now since the booth that Jack Nicholson and Dianne Keaton
occupied during the filming of Something’s Gotta Give has been requested over
the last decade by a thousand tourists and thus thankfully the crowds have
moderated. Roast chicken there but also chicken from a roadside stand on a
dodgy side street in San Juan—eaten without utensils and washed down with a cold
beer. All while standing.
Maybe I’ll wear my funny house
slippers…maybe a different one on each foot. Then I’ll be like a Marrakesh
bazaar. You won’t know what to look at first.
