Magic comes from passion

So, I went on a date tonight, and after over three years of being in a relationship with someone, it was nothing short of magical.  Even though we were getting together under the same roof, we went that extra mile to look our best for our outing on the town, preparing as if we were on our first date.  When it came to the date, we chose out a new restaurant we have never been to before, we tried new wines while waiting for our table, and indulged in new creations of food.  He was an absolute gentleman, pulling out my chair for me and feeding me tastes of his meal, all while engaging me in intelligent, intriguing, and entertaining conversation.  What truly enabled tonight to be magical and make my heart sing, besides the romanticism of it all, was being able to witness someone I care about deeply surrounded by and partaking in his passion.

My partner is chef, and not to brag too much, but he is a darn good one.  His achievements in the field are greatly recognized by those who have been graced with his art, but at the same time, there are not enough who have been exposed to his potential.  He is as innovative and creative as he is simple and traditional.  He has gained his experience first hand by jumping into work head first, rising up to any challenge, never accepting failure.

Since we met, we have cooked together or he has cooked for me.  It has always seemed to played a big role in our relationship.  But when it comes to food, I tend to forget that he sometimes wants to be the one simply enjoying the creations of a meal rather than preparing it and consuming the fruits of his labors.  After all, food is his passion, not simply the creation of food.

Tonight, he insisted we ordered a variety of small plate, and sure we could taste each others, but order what was desired.  The same with the actual meal, order what was wanted, and we always had the option of tasting each others.  This was a treat, and I timidly ordered one small plate and one entree.  My partner ordered two small plates and one entree, so not too much more than me, but still an extra course.

When our meals came, the magic unfolded.  Not solely on my palette did it unfold, but by watching his face across from me as he allowed each of the flavors to dance across his tongue, all while deciding how each of the ingredients intermingled with one another.  He would discuss it with me, explaining how the textures, the temperatures, the ingredients, the flavors all worked or didn’t work in any given combination that was presented to him.  When he took a  small bite of food, it was expressed on his face that it was nothing short of epic, for he would close his eyes or stare intently at the meal, shutting off all of his senses except the ability to taste so he could let it all in, and chew slowly, savoring every last moment.  This lasted from the moment our first plates were set upon the table to the moment our server cleared our last table settings.  Upon that last bite, he declared the desire to visit a new establishment on a weekly basis, for food simply does not exist in a vacuum and he must experience it all.

This was a wonderful moment to partake in, having the opportunity to partake in someone else’s passion so intimately.  It always brings me pure joy to see the man I care about so deeply engaged in something he cares about so much, and that, my friends, is where the magic came from tonight.

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