Nulla dies sine linea. Four sentences every day. About whatever happened that day. Most of it's even true. Written by Scott Lee Williams
Friday, November 23, 2018
After the sweet and spicy carrot puree, and the savory green chickpea hummus, and the warm and sweet butternut squash, and the mashed potatoes (with potato chips on top - how have I never thought of this before?), and the nutty wild rice, and the blackened bunch of maitake mushroom as big as a head of cauliflower, and the vinegary baby artichokes with citrus fruit, and the half-a-head of cabbage and and and and, we stare dazedly at the digestif menu and try to compose ourselves. I try to push the haze of wine out of the way and hold the card near a candle so my (alarmingly) fading eyes can read it in the dim light of this very chic vegan restaurant.
“We had to choose between alcohol an dessert,” Katie says when the waiter walks up with his expectant smile, “and we decided on dessert.”
“Isn’t it a shame that we have to do that sometimes?” he says, shaking his head sadly.