Eating well

When I told my sister that my Theradate was taking me to Oleana, she rapidly fired a series of questions at me:

"How did you get him to agree to take you there?!"

"Does he know how expensive it is?"

and lastly,

"Is he paying?"

Despite my sister's assumptions about my conniving personality, it was actually entirely his idea. And he turned down my repeated offers to help out with the bill.

I came away with a *very* full belly (the waitress actually warned us we had ordered too much food), as well as a number of mini take-away containers filled with deliciousness. It will be a strange moment tomorrow when I invite my two young friends who I have a lunch date with every Wednesday into my room with their school lunches consisting of hot dogs and baked beans, then whip out my leftovers. "I have mussels with deep-fried hot peppers," I'll say, and give them a small bite to taste, if they're adventurous enough. "Oh, and this? It's a small bird with crunchy bones, called a quail. It's accompanied by toasted pistachios and dried barberries."