What follows is the first half of the introduction to my book. Since the second half doesn’t “work” too well on a blog, I’m only sharing the beginning. Stay tuned for more book excerpts!
Some of my favorite memories center around food – whether it was a birthday party, a family reunion, or a romantic getaway, the food – its smells, flavors, and experience – tend to be the first triggers of great memories.
One of my favorite memories happened when I was eating a French pastry, on a bustling street, full of French, English, and other European dialects yammering away at one another. I stood there, one hand holding a fresh, warm cruller…well, a half-eaten cruller to be exact…and what an amazing sensation. The sugary glaze was slowly covering my hand; the warm, freshly baked dough melted in my mouth along with more of the sugary sweet, semi-liquid coating; and the scents of other pastries flooded the air. It was simply magical.
My other hand was busy as well. You see, it was the third day following my wedding. My new bride and I were holding hands, and had been holding hands for much of the past three days. I’ll admit, it was a new sensation – having lived seventy-two miles apart while we dated – and I enjoyed it thoroughly. Just intermingling our fingers brought warmth – inner and outer warmth – and a smile to my face. Mixed with the incredible pastry, I was in wedded bliss.
That evening, we were on a different street, full of many different languages again, but this time, we were eating authentic Chinese food, prepared by people who truly know what Chinese food should taste like. As I looked around me at the Imperial red and gold roofs that hearkened back to the Tang Dynasty in Ancient China, I was caught up in the grandeur of this new life together with the only woman I had met who completely completed me.
Later that evening, we stole away to a small shop that prided itself in unique cookbooks from around the world. Amy collected cookbooks. I chose one for her that would help us to remember the entire day. Handing it to my new blushing bride, I said, “We need to remember to come back here in twenty-five years.” She smiled back at me.
Taking the book, she replied, “I agree, but in the meantime, we can use this cookbook and our Honeymoon to inspire every room in our home.” Home. It had a nice ring to it. Yes, we had a house that housed our earthly possessions, albeit a rented house, but a house is not always a home. This beautiful lady wanted to create a Home with me! I grinned much bigger than I had already been grinning.
As we left the shop, dreaming of what our home would look like, I asked a simple question: “Do you want to head to the waterfront for the fireworks, or head over to Italy for some more Gelato?”
Looking around me now, each room of our home has been touched by that trip to Disneyworld, and each time I look at a cruller, I smile, making a mental note to begin planning my return trip to Disneyworld…alone.
Good Grief?!? 