At my table I tasted burnt butter for the first time. Burnt just the way it should be – on purpose – not by accident. So good!
That evening, at that table, was no accident. An old friend sat opposite me. He knew me so well. He had planned that evening just as he knew I would like it.
I liked it. It was an old Italian restaurant in an old arcade in Sydney. The restaurant had been around too long to be trendy. Just how I like it. An old soul of a place for an old soul of a girl.
My friend had set the scene for me as we drove into the city centre – well, he didn’t need to do much scene-setting. He knew me and he thought I’d like it. So I could rest. I could imagine the place, knowing that it would match or better my imaginings. It did.
We approached on foot, down a beautiful darkened arcade where shopping had ceased for the day and old lantern lights lit our way. An elevator with old, iron-caged doors, lifted us to the third floor.
Such a beautiful place. The room softly lit with candles. The tables softly laid with fine white linen. The air softly filled with conversation.
My friend knew me well. He knew I wouldn’t order freely once I saw the prices. He knew me well enough to say on the way in ‘I’m planning to have three courses. I hope you will too.’ Discomfort anticipated and laid to rest.
Menus laid on our table. Food ordered. Food brought.
Oh, that burnt butter with sage over fresh ravioli!
Oh, that dear, old friend who knew me so well and wished to celebrate another year of the me he’s known for so many other years!
A table prepared lavishly for me, laden with grace.
Wonderful title drew me right in. I wasn’t disappointed. I look forward to more of your writing.
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Thank you. I loved the imagery of ‘fallow ground’ in your piece for today.
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Glad you liked it. thanks.
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There is so much I did not say about your piece today. To me the repetition of how well your friend knew you created the heart of your writing. I connected to your phrases “old soul of a place for an old soul of a girl”. I liked that you said girl and not woman. In “table prepared lavishly for me, laden with grace” I read different.levels of meaning. Beautiful and engaging writing.
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Thanks for the specific feedback. So helpful to know what works.
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I kept tasting that burnt butter. Great start! I liked the ‘been around too long to be trendy’ and the repetition of the soft as you entered the room. Great post.
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I can still taste it, too!
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I can taste that burnt butter with sage over ravioli. Delicious! Great post!
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Thanks! Your reference to the ‘teenage cleavage’ in your post today made me laugh out loud!
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Thanks. lol. I’m not sure if there is another way to describe it.
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Loving your writing Shaz, a nice way to stay connected to your thoughts and happenings! Is the friend who I think it is? 🙂
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It is indeed, our old friend, Mr Smith.
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You paint such a picture with your words Sharon. Very nicely done. Especially like how you don’t mention the name of the restaurant, companion or even building, so all we’re left with is your feeling of where you were and what was happening. x
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Thanks, friend. I love having feedback from an ‘editorial’ friend. Visit again!
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G’day Shazzameena,
Being the perfect hostess, you took us with you and sat us down, while including us in your celebration, Thank you I thoroughly enjoyed the experience
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What a lovely thought! I hadn’t thought about the level of hospitality that can be shown to readers.
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A dear, true friend, indeed
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I could ‘see’ and ‘taste’ it all, I felt like I was there, walking along with you. Inspiring writing! Bellissimo!
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Thanks, Glenys. I still have wonderful memories of that meal.
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