Freedom Fries and Cafe Creme (24 page)

‘Not often. If I date someone, after only a few weeks I start to feel the pressure of commitment, and I find that difficult. My work is tiring, and I really need time by myself to recover.'

‘Right, I see,' chorused the three women at the same
time; even though they didn't really have to work for a living and just did it to fill the time.

‘Well, if you'll excuse me, I think I'd better go back and see what's happening in the kitchen.'

They politely thanked me for the food and the time I'd shared with them, and made promises that they would keep in touch, that I'd cook for Robin's engagement party, and that I'd come to her wedding.

As I turned to leave I heard Adriana say, ‘Daphne, when are you going to introduce me to your cousin now he's back from Sardinia?'

I was right. She needed a man. All that chocolate she had been eating was just a substitute for sex.

The other two started giggling along with her. They wouldn't change. They liked having affairs, relationships, or whatever they liked to call them. They were all terrified of having too much blank space in their precious diaries.

Mrs Brown was calling me. A friend of hers was dying to meet me.

Oh, good heavens, it was Ken!

Great!

After a smiling introduction, Mrs Brown left us.

‘When I found out you were going to cook for the Browns, I invited myself over, but I had to have dinner with my parents first. You know, Victoria, everyone here is amazed at how you managed to combine food from Louisiana and New England for the menu tonight, and that you cooked the best ever turkey.'

Talking about turkey, here you are
.

‘Give me another chance, Victoria …'

Without thinking, I suddenly took his arm and led him to the comfortable chairs where I'd left the three women a few minutes earlier.

‘Robin, Daphne and Adriana, I want you to meet Ken, who is …'

Three pairs of eyes looked up at me, then at Ken, with unabashed joy.

‘… er, who is desperately interested in meeting all of you. If you'll excuse me, I have to get back to the kitchen.'

I walked away quickly without looking back.

The last thing I heard was Ken calling my name.

Finally I was able to leave, having asked Steve to supervise the remainder of the clearing up in the kitchen and dining room.

Back home I was so tired that I knew if I went to bed immediately I wouldn't sleep.

On the porch, I lit the fire, took out my blanket, made myself some nice herbal tea, poured out a small glass of cranberry liqueur, sat on my rocking chair, and looked at the white waves softly illuminated by the immaculate moon. Chipolata was panting gently, also enjoying the moment. I valued this special time, knowing that the ocean would never let me down. Every little sip of the cranberry liqueur was a drop of life: bitter, sweet, bitter, sweet …

Makes about 35 truffles, enough for Adriana
and
her friends.

This cranberry liqueur is delicious topped up with sparkling wine or champagne to make a Kir Kennedy. Makes approx 1.25 litres.

‘So you're telling me that you want to sue Fifty State Burger and Cable Boon because you think that they're the ones responsible for—'

‘They are the ones to blame. There's no doubt about it!'

This was said sharply and unequivocally.

I turned my eyes away from the window. I had been looking out at the slowly falling snow. Now I observed my new patient with greater attention since I had never heard anything like that before. Although he seemed comfortable lying on the blue sofa, his breathing was loud and laboured, as if he were having respiratory failure. Pen in hand, I was poised to write down whatever words came out of his mouth.

His name was Dominic.

Dominic was very obese. I had noticed immediately how uncomfortable it was for him simply to exist. His red face was an obvious sign of poor health. His vast clothes
were sloppy. Dominic didn't give me the impression that he took much care of himself. It was distressing to look at him. Poor man! I hoped I'd be able to help.

His round eyes were a beautiful pale green and were fixed on the picture on the wall facing him.

‘Tell me more about it,' I said gently, though I thought it both ridiculous and grotesque.

No answer.

I tried again. ‘Is it new, this decision to sue the fast-food and television companies?'

A great sigh escaped from the large man. ‘Two weeks ago, I guess, I came up with it after I saw a woman on TV who got one million dollars in damages from the cigarette company she'd sued. She'd been smoking cigarettes since she was thirteen, and developed lung cancer because of it. She said that if the cigarettes hadn't been on sale she wouldn't have started smoking in the first place.'

Sure, as if someone forced her to buy and smoke them
.

Stories like that made me angry. Nobody wanted to be responsible for their own actions any more. We lived in an infantile society where we demanded more security but accepted no responsibility. It was always others who were to blame.

‘This story made me think, you see …' Dominic continued, his eyes still glued to the picture. ‘It made me realise that I've been eating food from Fifty State Burger for more than forty years now. It's certainly the reason why I'm so overweight and unhealthy today.'

So Dominic had already started eating at Fifty State Burger when he was just four years old. Yuck! I once went
to one of these restaurants just to try their food, and I was sick for almost two days! As soon as I entered the place, I could smell the grease. Everything was deep-fried, even the vegetables.

‘My mother would take us there pretty often. You see, I've got three siblings, and my dad was always travelling. There was a Fifty State Burger right down the street, and since they were always saying on TV and the radio how it was the right place to take your family for good food, my mother would do like the other mothers from the neighbourhood and take us there all the time.'

It was impossible to miss these restaurants. In front of every one there was an enormous kitsch red bull, wearing a white stetson, with the American flag emblazoned across its flank.

This got me thinking about my own family when I was growing up. We didn't have much money but we always had healthy food on the table, since my mother didn't work and she had time to shop. We didn't have any choice but to eat healthily as she had problems with her cholesterol at a young age. We all had to follow her diet. With hindsight I realised how lucky we all were. And portions were smaller then, weren't they? They seemed to have become bigger and bigger over the years, growing along with people's appetites: not a very positive trend.

Dominic continued his story.

‘We would go there every other day because it was so much fun! I also remember collecting the tiny bulls from the different states. I got all fifty! I displayed them in a cabinet in the family room …'

A beautiful collection!

‘Most of the time we would meet our neighbours there. In the summer we kids could play in the inflatable pool while our mothers would chat after we'd eaten. This regular gathering really seemed to reinforce our neighbourhood community.'

Right!

‘At that time, it was proven that Fifty State Burger's food contained all the nutrients we needed every day. We all believed it.'

And how could people avoid the silly song? On radio, TV … Promotional cars with loudspeakers blaring out the Fifty State Burger slogan would even drive around the neighbourhoods, drumming up customers.

After another big sigh, Dominic started singing. His voice was smooth and melodious. Surprised, I listened intently to him.

Of course the lyrics didn't mention the deep frying, the excess salt and sugar.

‘Their kids' playroom, their bull collection … Later on, when I was thirteen, when my mother wasn't at home, since by then she'd started working, I used to stop off at Fifty State Burger on my way home from school because I was always hungry.'

Dominic went on to relate a typical day when he was a teenager.

‘What is it that you like about this food?'

‘Come on, it's really tasty! The mixture of sweet ketchup and tangy mustard smeared over a cheeseburger, the golden French fries, and the deep-fried veggies … And
it all looks great as well as being good to eat. Then you wash it down with a giant, cold, thirst-quenching cola.'

‘Don't you find it too fatty, too salty and too sweet, all at the same time?'

‘No,' Dominic answered simply, then upon reflection added: ‘Well, I never used to think that but I guess I was being deceived all those years. That's why I'm going to sue the liars!'

Dominic had got used to the excessive flavourings, which had gradually destroyed his taste for less processed and more natural foods.

By then I was feeling more like a dietician than a therapist.

‘You know, the restaurants are very clean. You'd be amazed!'

Oh, please!

I didn't say anything.

‘Yes, I can assure you. Have you seen the new bottles of antibacterial mustard and ketchup they put on the tables? I can't fault them on their hygiene.'

‘No, I haven't,' I replied, wondering for a moment if he was joking. But no.

So essentially they poisoned people with their salty, sweet, deep-fried food, but they countered that by putting antibacterial mustard and ketchup on the table. As long as it killed the germs, who cared whether or not the food was healthy or tasted natural?

Flavour was very important to me: the freshness and smell of fruit without sugar or ice cream on it, or a vegetable cooked without oil; the texture and savour of a
perfectly ripened Vacherin cheese, the bouquet of a
full-bodied
wine – all were perfectly wrapped gifts straight from Mother Nature.

‘And it's cheap,' Dominic continued. ‘And we don't have to wait to eat. You're hungry, you want to eat right away.' He was apparently still trying to convince me – or maybe himself – about the good side of Fifty State Burger, even though he was planning to sue them.

Just as a car needed to be filled with gas to keep it running, so, for my patient, food was nothing more than fuel. He didn't seem to appreciate what he had on his plate as long as it gave him immediate satisfaction and filled his stomach.

I longed to be able to tell him that when I baked a cake, or something was simmering on the stove, a delicious, joyous aroma would permeate my apartment … not a foul greasy odour from frying meat.

I needed to know more about Dominic's family background.

‘Are you married?'

‘Why, you think women today can cook?' he laughed. ‘Even my mother didn't cook much.'

So it's partly her fault, then, if today you find yourself in such bad health, is it?

Whatever next? Parents being sued for not having fed their children properly?

This made me think about the latest commercial for Super Vital soup. It showed a domestic scene from the sixties when many mothers had already stopped cooking and would simply open a tin and serve a liquid substance
that was supposedly soup. Their slogan: ‘Good soup like your mother used to serve you! From the can!'
Yummy!

‘Today, women
and
men can enjoy cooking,' I said, thinking how much my husband loved to cook.

Unfortunately, our hectic life didn't give us much opportunity to cook together, but Paul and I made the most of our time at weekends, when we prepared dishes in advance for the week ahead.

‘I don't see how it could ever be enjoyable to have to feed a family. My mother used to struggle all the time in the kitchen, when we didn't go to Fifty State Burger.'

As a mother, I'd decided to work only part time in order to be home to cook most of the meals for my children, just like my own mother had done for us. Usually I enjoyed it. I was proud to have passed on my passion for cooking to my children, and always welcomed them in my kitchen. I wanted mealtimes, especially dinner, to be almost sacred daily events which the whole family enjoyed together.

In fact, we'd already agreed Paul was going to cook that evening, while I prepared my certosino and a mincemeat cake for Christmas.

‘But don't you take time to eat with your family?' I asked Dominic.

‘Most of the time my wife orders the kind of takeout that I don't like – sushi or bean curd, stuff like that. She and my twin girls eat together sitting on stools at the kitchen counter.'

Dominic turned his head sharply from the picture on the wall and looked straight at me.

‘Do you have children, Dr Elaine?'

‘Yes, but if you don't mind I'd rather ask the questions,' I answered with my special disarming smile.

I didn't talk about my family with my patients. After everything I heard in my consulting room about other families, I knew how lucky I was. It almost made me feel guilty sometimes.

‘Of course … sorry!'

His beautiful pale-green eyes returned to the picture on the wall.

‘No problem. You know we're here to talk about you, Dominic.'

‘My wife just thinks about her life coach.'

‘Her
life coach
?'

‘Yes, lots of people have them nowadays because they don't have time to find solutions to their little problems.'

Why doesn't she go see a therapist? What are we here for?

‘There's this guy – he looks like a model – who comes to our house regularly. He helps my wife to live a better life, I guess. She does gym exercises with him, and he gives her a list of food and drinks that she is supposed to consume if she wants to stay fit. My wife's name is Tiffany,' he went on, ‘and I like her the way she is. But she has this obsession about losing weight all the time.'

‘Doesn't that encourage you to do something about your own situation? I mean, um, your health condition? You seem to have difficulty breathing sometimes.'

Silence. I wondered if Dominic was pretending not to have heard my question.

‘You would not believe what Tiffany buys now: drinks that block fat, or give her extra energy; pills that reduce
her appetite. I'm not convinced it's good for her. I'm afraid that she might get sick, especially since she works so hard.'

Dominic had a point. Diet and energy-boosting products could be damaging to people's health if they weren't taken properly.

‘And now she wants a divorce,' Dominic blurted out, ‘because she's sure that she's going to meet the man she's always been waiting for. I've basically become a burden to her.'

But look at you, Dominic! Why don't you take care of yourself? You seem to be a nice man
.

‘Of course, I'm convinced it's the coach who's turning Tiffany's head. He's younger, good-looking and he has a decent job.'

‘What do you do for a living, Dominic?'

‘I don't work. I can't. I get tired too quickly.'

Oh, please!

I wondered how he and his wife managed to make ends meet. Maybe they lived on Tiffany's salary. But he didn't give me a chance to ask.

‘And besides, I've got enough money to do what I want to. I'm entitled to a small disability pension.'

‘So what do you do all day?'

‘I mostly watch TV.'

I might have guessed.

‘That's the reason I want to sue Cable Boon.'

‘But you've just said that you have enough money for your needs. So why do you want to sue the cable company if not for financial reasons?'

‘It's the principle of the thing. I just want to show them
– and tell the world – that Fifty State Burger and Cable Boon are bad, that they're the cause of my problems.'

‘Which are …?'

I knew exactly what his troubles were, but I wanted him to say it.

‘Um, well, because of my obesity, I feel tired all the time, and Tiffany wants to leave me.'

Well, it's about time you realised there's a link
.

‘It's also a kind of personal revenge, just to show my wife I'm capable of accomplishing something since she always tells me I'm a useless fat slob.'

‘You could make an effort to try to be a little more attractive to her.'

‘It's too late.'

‘But physical appearance isn't always the most important thing,' I said.

‘Really? What about the images that you see everywhere?' Dominic answered. ‘All those anorexic models in the fashion magazines? Why do you think Tiffany wants to lose weight? To look like them! I'd be amazed if some of them ever eat at all, judging by the way their bones stick out.'

He was right. Our society defined beauty by an extreme slenderness that didn't reflect the way women – and men – really looked.