A Simple Dinner
By Anthea Butler I used to hate Valentines day, until a dinner changed my mind. After a particularly ugly split from another fool right before Valentines Day, a friend in grad school saw my distress, and invited me over for dinner. Our friendship was complicated. He made us a spectacularly simple dinner. I can still remember the tastes on my tongue. I fell in love. It was never consummated. Years later, I can still taste it. It was as if our feelings had merged into the food. Whatever love is, I think you can taste it. With the right person, it is like touching the divine.
By Anthea Butler
I used to hate Valentines day, until a dinner changed my mind.
After a particularly ugly split from another fool right before Valentines Day, a friend in grad school saw my distress, and invited me over for dinner. Our friendship was complicated. He made us a spectacularly simple dinner. I can still remember the tastes on my tongue. I fell in love. It was never consummated. Years later, I can still taste it. It was as if our feelings had merged into the food.
Whatever love is, I think you can taste it. With the right person, it is like touching the divine.
Anthea Butler is Professor of Religious Studies and Graduate Chair of Religion at The University of Pensylvania. She writes and blogs at Religion Dispatches.