In English class yesterday, we were asked to write a paragraph that ‘sounded gorgeous’, without any other direction. This is what I wrote:
A plate of poetry presented before me for consumption: eaten with my eyes first; a carefully placed sprig of parsley – I sneer, despising decorative food, because food is meant to be eaten, not for decoration – squiggles of a demi-glace trying to appear haphazard, like random squirting, but the lack of smudges, the lack of spatter tell me otherwise. Yet another attempt at the impression of carelessness: precisely tangled shreds of purple cabbage, forming a nest of sorts, upon which are stacked alternating slices of fish and overcooked carrot.
I gently insert my fork and begin eating the edible art.
What do you think?
*The picture above is from my lunch spot today. Details to come.