The other day I met the Crutchess at a swanky restaurant in the West end of Montreal. She was helping me do research for a story about a dessert. which I was writing for my blog. The research aspect of it involved tasting them which sounds like it should be fun. This is what transpired.
Dusty to waiter: "I'll have the chocolate truffle cake."
Crutchess: "I'll have the vanilla strawberry cheesecake."
Our waiter brought us our desserts.
"Enjoy," was his comment.
Dusty: "These are delicious, savoury"
Crutchess: "sinful, really.
At the next table. A group of people began a conversation.
Person no 1: "Ya, sinful, and s(l)avoury"
Person No 2: "They are a sindulgence"
Person no 3: " They are an ex-travagance"
person no 4: " hot stuff".
Dusty: Do you get the feeling we're being made fun of?"
Crutchess: " Something to think about. I'm starting to sweat."
Dusty: "Your nose is turning red".
Crutchess : "Little beads of sweat are starting to run down your face. "
What transpired that day was we started to perspire.
They were trying to tell us something: that often times savoury meant slavoury. It was something I would have to look into it.
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