Lion’s share of my memorable moments with friends have happened around the table in dinnertime. Food, wine and friends –- it’s a golden triangle hard to break, difficult to surpass.
Although the ambiances vary. Sometimes food melts in mouth like manna from heaven, sometimes it’s pure crap, burned and muddy shoe soles would taste better.
Some wines are combinations of elixir and nectar, some resemble reindeer piss with a load of cork.
Some dinner gatherings are filled with a whirlwind of laughter and stories and hugs. Some, on the other hand, proceed precisely as smoothly as rusty, boalder-laden sleigh on bumpy tarmac. I remember one time when Simo crouched gloomily in the end of the table whole evening without uttering a word and scribbled poem after poem. After espressos he wanted to thank dinner party for nice company by reciting the poems. They all started with the same line: As I lay dead, rottening…
After that he passed out.
Tasty or lousy food, cheerful or banal moments. It doesn’t actually matter. I enjoy those dinners from the same point of view that I enjoy life: they are perfect in their whimsicality and imperfection.