Driving west on the 401 to London, Ont., to see my mom on Saturday morning:
Beast: That’s a nice Lincoln you just passed. You know, if I drove a Lincoln I wouldn’t stop doing Matthew McConaughey impressions the whole time.
Foodie: It’s probably for the best that we drive a VW.
Beast: Whoa! Did you see that?
Foodie: What? Where?
The Beast and I drove to London, Ont. recently to visit with my mom. The two-hour drive there was eventful.
Foodie: We should really do a weekend trip to Buffalo, don’t you think? We could stay at a fancy hotel, which would be like super-cheap because it’s Buffalo, and we could go to the Albright Knox and eat chicken wings at the Anchor Bar and look at Frank Lloyd Wright architecture and that Louis Sullivan building, too. What’s that called again? And that would be just on Friday night and Saturday morning. And then we could stay in Niagara-on-the Lake on Saturday night at some enchanting little inn and just be enchanted and stuff. We could drive back Sunday morning in time to get you to work. What do you think?
Beast: The Guaranty Building.
I went for an emergency massage the other night to deal with this shoulder pain I contracted in Ottawa last week. A colleague recommended the therapist: “She is punishing,” he warned. Right before, the Beast texted me to say that he was making dinner. All I had to do was pick up a couple of things on my way home. So, after my body was made malleable by the smallest little pair of hands I’ve ever seen, I bought shitake mushrooms, gnocchi, chicken stock and sage from the No Frills.
At home, in the kitchen, where the Beast insisted that he would make dinner alone, without help.
Beast: Are you impressed that I chose some ingredients because I felt they were autumnal and then looked them up on my Epicurious app for a suitable recipe?
Foodie: (Doing my stretching exercises that my therapist showed me) Really impressed.
Beast: Even my outfit is autumnal.