In “Gourmandise” (in Spanish it has two titles: “Gourmet” and “Gourmet Rhapsody”) Muriel Barbery tells the story of Pierre Arthens. It is a critical gastronomic connotation, especially of the hungriest. If they know they are trying to die, they will take a pickle flavored with perdida. You know it was in your childhood, but you don’t know how to specify it.
I’ve been greedy all my life. And this sweet tooth brought me sweet pleasure. It’s not a rare scene where I find a lover who hasn’t been here for years, a seat that holds me back to my childhood, a look I’ve worn since I arrived, just a simple wander up the stairs in the various cities that now appear in the middle of the city. When I’m excited and escape my wife’s warning gaze, I’m ready to be consumed. And there is always a sense of disappointment.
It’s normal, it’s normal. We know very well that past perceptions have been distorted by memory, time, certain idealization processes. Forgive me with a sincere memory, like the sweet one, and with the bad tragos of life (at least with the minor ones). It is impossible to transfer emotions with loyalty and maintain them over time.
I took care of myself again this weekend. In the market above the streets there is a confectionery, some caramels that fascinated me in my childhood. I didn’t know they would tell me exchange for some purchase or money exchange. I bought a good candidad. Caramelos with black and white wrapper; with the woman’s discussion. Caramelos cafes. Sweets, sweets, sweets… and nothing more.
I feel like the taste has changed a lot in that time. They made him lose the cigars he smoked and all the coffee he drank. I wonder if it’s sophisticated here as well. However, I refuse to accept that I am not interested in simple tastes. So much so that I am giving up what I have produced in the past.
I don’t know because it’s so certain. I enjoy these other delicacies or platillos that I have not forgotten all my life. I’m a favorite and there’s been a lot since then. There are glimpses of my mother that I find insurmountable, and caramels that I consume with singular joy.
Entone? Amplifies time. In doing so, I use up that little space for distortion, for stamping memory. Nostalgia accompanies a person who disappears, and she is always a traitor. As a good friend quipped, “nostalgia ain’t what it used to be.”
Perhaps learning tends to raise expectations as time passes through certain experiences. Although I am worried about the frustrating return of certain flavors, I now despair to think of what I am losing. But who knows?, one of these moments I will find myself with someone from my childhood whom I thought was forgotten, or better yet, who does not like me, and I will discover a miracle in his taste. There will be something to build on during the probationary period.
Leave a Reply