No, I don't want to be treated like an invalid. But it is rather embarrassing feeling like the member of the community who just isn't really well. Dinner is a quiet affair this evening and Carl's vegetarian chili is spectacular, and we are almost all soon clamouring for seconds. This evening, it seems, if we have anything to talk about, it is going to be about food. Sarah has just finished a monologue about the best Thai red curry she has ever eaten, in Bangkok of course, and Maureen is trying to wheedle from Carl his chili recipe. Francois dines with focussed silent intensity, though Jenn is still peppering him with inquiries about recipes from the monastery where he was apparently for a while cook and master chef. Yes, we want everything in this dinner, in this conversation, to be as it ought to be, harmless, insipid, innocuous, with the false innocence that hangs like a delicate beige shroud over any bourgeois dinner table. George and Jeffery are both listening, a captive audience, to Jesús, as he describes to them the various kids of arepa that are made and enjoyed in Colombia. Given that he is usually so quiet, and his English a bit limited, he appears to be the only one here tonight to really come out of his shell. I am seated with Carl, Melissa, and Carol, who is offering some tips about buying and choosing the best dried Mexican chilis. Apparently she is also a friend of the famous British foodie, Nigella Lawson.
The bread, homemade, courtesy of Melissa, is like the best supporting actor to the chili. It is solid, but soft, multigrain, and delicately sweet, and still warm from the oven. It is a joy to spread butter on a slice, and watch it melt, just a little, before popping the entire wholesome extravaganza into one's mouth.
Suddenly, Francois speaks up and announces, "I was just talking to Brother Glen, and he is going to talk to the others tonight about rapprochement. Apparently, several of them are particularly disappointed in themselves for how they conducted themselves today."
"We can meet during coffee at ten tomorrow morning", says Carl dryly.
Suddenly Aaron arriving late, plunks himself next to me and scoops some chili onto a plate. "Anyone here for hearing more of Cosme's journal after dinner? Jesús?"
Jesus nods affirmatively, and Aaron proceeds to shovel the delicious aromatic chili into his gaping mouth.
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