I ate dinner last night flanked by two people who also hate raisins in baked goods. Why is that so satisfying? Finding my people, I call it. Only being able to interact meaningfully with people just like oneself is not an admirable trait, but reveling in finding like-minded folks–even if only on the cooked-raisin front (but it’s never only one front, is it?)–is one of the most sincere pleasures I’ve found in this life.
I’m at The Greenbrier (“America’s resort”), which once served as an emergency bunker for the U.S. government in case of nuclear attack (facilities included a “high-tech” media room with a mural of Capitol Hill to give the impression that whoever was photographed in front of it was still in D.C.) and is rumored to have been the “undisclosed secure location” of Dick Cheney after 9/11 (a rumor I, for one, will not let die). I’m here for a food writers conference–there really is a conference for everything!–and tonight we ate dinner in the main dining room with its old-school dress code and Kyptonite-like chandeliers. I tried to order an appetizer and salad. No. I had to order a main course as well. It’s a three-course menu. The waiter, who seemed a decent chap, insisted I order a main course. So I did. I even tasted it. But it mainly sat, uneaten, until cleared away. Then, wanting to avoid another confrontation, I bullied myself into ordering dessert. So there I was, with a giant square of quivering raisin-studded bread pudding before my full self. I must admit, however, that it was for the best: how else could I have bonded with my dinner companions over how gross raisins can be?
I’d order that un-eaten bread pudding again in a heartbeat. Eating: it’s not always about the food.
Kathleen Donovan | 08-Apr-08 at 7:50 am | Permalink
Raisins alone…good. Raisins in baked goods…bad.
I’m glad to know there are others like me out there, too!