When we go to a crêperie for sunday brunch we usually order two items, one savory entrée, normally an omelet or a corned beef hash and then a sweet crêpe for dessert. We split both, sharing the dessert last while reading the Sunday paper.

My concentration suddenly becomes fixated on the potato fries on his plate which he dusts with salt and ground pepper and then he smothers it with ketchup and a light amount of Tabasco. He only puts enough food into his mouth, takes his time to chew, sips coffee, wipes his mouth with a napkin and then continues with his point.
I continue to watch him intently while his well articulated opinion blurs in the background. The same routine, in the exact order. He does this in a well-timed manner that it almost creates a rhythm.
I move my gaze from his plate to his eyes and smiled. I just say “Interesting” in a yielding tone because I hadn’t been paying attention to what he was saying.
There was only one opinion on the table that sunday.
~ral
(The picture above was taken at Slanted Door during the Salvadoran's birthday dinner. By calling two months in advance, I managed to get us a 6pm reservation for two on a busy friday evening.)
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