09/03/01: Sunny Sunday afternoon

The sky was a particularly clear blue and the lampposts cast sharp shadows on the sidewalk. Though the air was quite brisk, the breezes from the night before had quieted themselves and allowed my skin to be warmed by the midday sun. I didn’t HAVE to be anywhere – I could just BE. I could soak in the day and take the time to take notice of wonders it held in store – which at that moment, involved lunch at my favourite restaurant.

I entered the door and was warmly greeted by both the waitress – who, by this point, knew me by name – and by the earthy scents of eggs and roasted beets that were part of the daily frittata special. I took a seat by the window and nodded to the waitress who, with an expectant glance and a raising of the coffee pot in her hand, had inquired if I’d like coffee. As she poured me a cup of the hot fair trade brew, she described the special; though I waivered for a moment, whether or not to order it or a less fattening salad, I was eventually convinced by the ambient aroma to seize the day and seize the potentially once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to order the roasted beet, goat cheese and arugula frittata.

I was already on my second cup of coffee when my lunch arrived a mere fifteen minutes later. Still steaming and bubbling against the plate, the dish assaulted my senses – the heat, the smell, the sizzle and the vibrancy of the purple beets contrasting with yellow egg. These sensations were soon followed by the taste of my first bite – the creaminess of the mouth-coating cheese, the sharpness of the wilted arugula, both heightened by the pinch of salt in the pillowy frittata base. Delicious! The next bite expanded on that palette of flavours and textures to include the earthy sweetness of the still firm slices of roasted beets. I took the lemon wedge that had come with my salad and gave it a healthy squeeze over my entire plate – the aim to use sour to emphasize sweet even more.

Bite after bite I savoured the frittata and before I knew it, thirty minutes had passed by and my plate was clean. The range of flavours was exceptionally satisfying and left me thankful: thankful to the local farmers who’d grown the beets and arugula and raised the chickens who laid the eggs; thankful to the vendors at the market where the restaurant purchases their ingredients; thankful to the chef who’d invented and prepared the meal; and thankful to the waitress whose explanation helped me make my decision to order it.