How A Frugal Strudel's Reluctant End Sets the Stage For the Joy of Spontaneity

Homemade, soul warming soup in Amsterdam.                                                                                                                                                         Many years ago, I was out with several friends in Toronto where we inevitably always seemed to end up at the good for nothing but calories, the cozy and aesthetically pleasing, Future Bakery. I never was a pie girl, but this time, we all agreed to buy a braided, frugal, apple strudel, that was long enough to share and then some. On a night like this, we launch into ad-hoc improvisation, as per standard, where no idea is rejected, only built upon. The salt and pepper shakers and anything we could find on the table became puppets for our re-enactments with interesting characters. In fact, so did the hand puppets I carted around from the party themed store I was working at which gave us great pleasure. Through these characters, alot could be expressed with humour. Someone of us had brought his cousin, who fit in with us like he had always been a pawn in our humour squad.                                                                                                                                                               Somewhere around midnight, laughing our guts out, I started to feel melancholy. I looked down at the disappearing apple loaded braids, and said “It’s just that…I don’t want the strudel…to end…” My reluctance was contagious. There I had said it. And as soon as it left my mouth, we had all caught on to the double meanings and enjoyed their fruits for our story telling ways.                                                                                                            We’re talking at least a decade now, and that strudel is still fresh in my head. I can think of a few times in my life I did not want “the strudel” to end, because the spontaneity, the laughter, the adventure, or the wonder is something that only disappoints due to it’s fleeting freshness. Here now, memory thereafter. Good memories should be savored, and create inspiration for the next “now.”                                                                                      Hence this savory blog, weaving braids of experiences into a life-gulping journey. Why aim for the last bite when every moment gives us a chance to choose the path of indulgent spontaneity? Of course, I am not just talking about food here, but as humans, we do need fuel for our collective adventures. And sharing it with worthy eat-mates heightens a meal’s enjoyment. Even if we are alone, yet amongst locals, it can feel like a child looking through a peep hole…witnessing other lives passing uncoincidentally by our hungry eyes.