Freedom Fries and Cafe Creme

by Jocelyne Rapinac

  ‘Definitely a world-class restaurant!’ Carla added.

  Armand didn’t really like these sorts of places. In his opinion they offered no atmosphere, besides having a similar corporate designer look, with no sense of conviviality – the way Rick and Carla’s kitchen had looked before Armand had added his human touch – and they all served the same kinds of dishes no matter where you were in the world: experimental cooking, overly complex preparations and bizarre mixtures of ingredients that in the end denatured the essence of the food. The prices were also completely over the top.

  Armand would have preferred an intimate local family restaurant, colourful and welcoming, where the menu was made from what was available that morning at the market and the cuisine was as authentic as its clientele. Unfortunately these little eating places were becoming increasingly rare everywhere in the world.

  ‘And you’ll never guess what we had for dessert!’ Rick finished.

  ‘The most expensive dessert in the world!’ exclaimed Carla.

  And, yes, it has to be expensive otherwise it can’t possibly be any good, Armand thought.

  ‘White truffle ice cream. Thirty euros a scoop!’ Rick informed them.

  ‘What? That’s forty-five dollars!’ shouted Armand.

  ‘That’s awfully expensive for white chocolate ice cream,’ said Juliette, her eyes wide with surprise.

  Rick explained to her what white truffles were.

  The little girl made a face. ‘Ice cream with mushrooms?’

  ‘Was it good, at least?’ Armand enquired.

  ‘It was, wasn’t it?’ Rick turned to Carla dubiously.

  ‘It was … er, yes, it definitely was.’

  That wasn’t said with much conviction, Armand decided. It was apparent to him that Rick and Carla had simply played their preferred role of trendy connoisseurs because it was the wealthy people’s thing to do, not because it was enjoyable.

  Rick and Carla continued raving about Sombre-Obscur, where customers were supposedly able to develop their sense of taste and smell, and experience brand-new and exciting sensations while eating.

  ‘It was a bit tricky to eat and drink neatly at times, but we truly could taste our food like we never have before. It was worth a try, wasn’t it?’

  ‘It was. Er, it definitely was.’

  ‘You spent the whole meal in total darkness?’ Juliette asked, somewhat astounded.

  Welcome to the odd world of adults, Armand was tempted to whisper in his daughter’s ear.

  ‘Just a few candles on the walls of the restaurant, that’s all,’ Carla explained.

  ‘That seems a little creepy, doesn’t it?’ Juliette stared at her father with her big hazel eyes.

  ‘It was very romantic, actually!’ Carla replied, glancing languorously at Rick.

  Romantic, my foot! Armand decided it was a silly idea because a big part of the delight in enjoying food is to see what you’re eating. If you want to taste what you have in your mouth without seeing the food, then close your eyes! This so-called innovative cuisine that mixes anything and everything together with no logic – no, thanks! And watching your companion enjoying food is also delicious … if indeed one has someone with whom you can share such pleasure …

  ‘I wonder if such a restaurant would work in New York?’ asked Rick, cutting short Armand’s thoughts.

  ‘Why not?’ Carla replied.

  ‘Because we Americans aren’t used to spending a long time sitting at a table smelling, tasting, sensing the food. Remember how long the dinner was? No, people definitely don’t have the time here,’ Rick concluded firmly.

  ‘But people like us do, don’t they?’ remarked Carla. She wanted to believe that she and Rick had healthier eating habits these days, and that they lived better than their friends and acquaintances.

  Armand brought in the main course and a salad.

  ‘Ah, how thoughtful of you!’ exclaimed Rick and Carla together, smiling appreciatively. ‘For dessert, did you also make …?’

  ‘Wait and see,’ Armand answered, winking.

  ‘I made the salad, and I put some colours into it!’ Juliette informed them proudly.

  ‘Like you always do in your pretty drawings.’ Carla smiled fondly, being full of admiration for the little girl. She had felt attached to her since the day they met. ‘It’s beautiful! Artistic talent definitely runs in the family.’

  ‘Talking about talent,’ said Rick as he took a generous portion of the Divine Meat Pie, ‘the afternoon we spent at the international Art in Food exhibition was simply fabulous.’

  ‘All the works of art were made of food,’ Carla explained.

  ‘Really, really?’ Juliette opened her eyes even wider.

  ‘Oh, yes. There were miniature Christmas trees made of spinach meringues.’

  ‘And they even had a fashion show with …’

  ‘… a dress made of various shades of pasta …’

  ‘… with jewellery made of dried fruit and beans, and hats made of bread.’

  Rick and Carla continued with ever more extravagant descriptions. Juliette looked at the two of them as if they were aliens from the planet Food.

  Armand was sure that his daughter was already thinking about the pictures she’d draw from all this.

  I personally prefer the kind of culinary art that stands on a plate in order to delight by being eaten, and that satisfies the eyes and the taste buds. All this seems a little wasteful when you think about the many people who are starving in the world. But, once more, Armand kept his thoughts to himself.

  ‘And the Petit Palais had a special exhibition of still lifes: La table des peintres. Totally first-rate!’ said Rick.

  ‘I would have liked that. Wouldn’t you, Papa?’ asked the budding artist.

  But Armand didn’t have a chance to reply.

  ‘Some of the paintings looked so incredibly real,’ Carla added, ‘that I felt like I wanted to plunge into them. I imagined myself sitting at the table wearing an elegant period dress, tasting the foods and drinks that were represented so beautifully, and being exhilarated by all the sensations of an idyllic vanished era.’

  A silence ensued. Everyone was struck by Carla’s images from the past, when people took time to eat, and enjoyed the company of their friends and families, and the outdoors, with a kind of simple nonchalance.

  It was time for dessert. Armand opened a small bottle of champagne and poured a few sparkling drops into his daughter’s glass.

  ‘I see you also thought of the Winter Fruit Delight! Thank you, Armand!’ exclaimed Rick and Carla.

  ‘To a New Year full of good meals!’

  ‘And healthy habits!’

  ‘C’est si bon, si bon si bon’, crooned Rick.

  After dessert, Juliette was ready to go to her room with the Armande doll and her new French book. She said good night to them all after making them promise that they would tell her all about their New Year’s resolutions the next day.

  When Juliette had gone to bed, Rick and Carla gave Armand their first gift. They never failed to bring him and his daughter a few presents whenever they went on their travels. Armand wondered if they felt sorry for him because he couldn’t afford trips like theirs. Not that he was at all interested in luxury travel – he personally thought it a bit superficial – though he did sometimes wish that he could see more of the world. But at least New York had a lot to offer.

  The first gift was a thick book about La table des peintres exhibition, which Rick and Carla began praising for a second time.

  Looking at them, Armand realised once again that he had never seen a couple get along so well: two married people who spent so much time together at the table, appreciating almost any kind of food, and constantly talking to each other. When he was with them he often felt as if he were part of the audience at a long and cheerful romantic play.

  That made him think about Liana …

  The way Rick and Carla had met was a good omen. ‘Impress me with a meal you’ve cook
ed and I’ll date you’ was a new concept in dating. The gathering of single people took place at a renowned and upmarket cookery school. The participants needed to know how to cook, at least a little bit. There was a pre-selection of fifteen women and fifteen men. Each participant was asked to cook his or her favourite dish, and then display it alongside everyone else’s on a long buffet table. Then everyone was invited to taste the dishes that appeared the most appetising. Carla literally fell in love with Rick’s Winter Fruit Delight, and Rick with Carla’s Divine Meat Pie. They found a little table for two away from the others and stayed until someone politely informed them that it was closing time and they were the only ones left.

  Back to the reality of their hectic daily routine, Rick and Carla had had to face the fact that they didn’t have time to prepare and enjoy the kind of meals they both loved because of their long working hours. Being extremely career-oriented, they spent their whole day working, eating only when they could spare a few moments. They were usually too tired to cook when they got home in the evenings: she, back from her law office; he, from the hospital.

  The new couple needed to find a solution in order to be completely happy. They were desperately searching for the answer when a colleague of Rick’s told him about the Art de Vivre show that was coming up.

  Armand was exhibiting at the show, trying to sell his services as a good-and-healthy-life coach, his slogan being ‘Too Busy to Cook? I Have the Solution!’ Not that Armand was all that motivated by the idea at the time, but he was anxious to find a job, and he liked cooking. Why not, after all? Especially since he wanted a new start after Han’s flight, and he was tired of selling holiday timeshares to people who didn’t really want them.

  Carla and Rick had hired him immediately: it was so fashionable to have a good-and-healthy-life coach, and a live-in one as well. This had suited Armand because he’d also needed a decent place to live for himself and Juliette, who was just a toddler then. Being Quebecois had been in his favour, Rick and Carla would later reveal, as they found his French heritage appealing.

  The couple now flew to Quebec City at least twice a year, ‘for the remarkable food experience and romanticism without the jet lag’, as they put it.

  Since then, Rick and Carla had been eternally grateful to Armand, who had helped them lead more stable and less stressful lives. He did the shopping, cooked balanced and tasty meals, supervised their workouts in their gym room, and organised their social events.

  Armand liked his job. An unusual kind of friendship had developed between him and his employers, plus he lived in a luxurious home – even if he found the furniture too modern and the many decorative objects a little too gaudy for his own taste.

  ‘The Tendance show at the Grande Épicerie was also a lot of fun! So many trendy and sophisticated groceries!’ said Carla, giving Armand a slender, elegant blue glass bottle with a white moon on it.

  He examined the label and discovered the contents promised much.

  After Armand had thanked them for all their gifts, he brought out a few of the food selections he had made. Another part of his job was trying to find the most fashionable, the healthiest and sometimes the most extraordinary food and drink: this was, after all, the height of good taste for Rick and Carla. They then went on to impress their friends and colleagues with Armand’s discoveries.

  ‘First, I came across some new tonic drinks from Africa made of hibiscus and baobab. They are supposed to be full of vitamin C.’

  ‘Oooooh!’ Rick and Carla said in unison.

  ‘And here is a Brazilian rainforest superberry drink full of natural antioxidants, and Tepee Tea prepared by Native Americans, plus two tickets for the Salad Fashion Show, which will be held at Grand Central Terminal in April …’

  Rick and Carla examined the various items with keen interest, carefully reading through the exhaustive lists of ingredients.

  Armand drew their attention. ‘Now, it is New Year’s resolutions time. You asked me to help you with your list, didn’t you?’

  ‘Indeed we did, Armand.’

  Rick and Carla each took a pen and a slip of paper, as eager as two students that had returned to school after a long summer off. They began writing while Armand went to the kitchen to put the kettle on for their comforting evening drink: mint and liquorice herbal tea imported from France.

  Tired but still in a positive mood, Rick and Carla had gone to bed early since they both had to be at work the following morning. Armand cleared the table, put everything into the dishwasher and finished tidying the kitchen, which he liked to be spotless every night before he himself retired.

  He checked to see if Juliette was asleep. She was. She seemed to be at peace in her dreams, her new doll, Armande, at her side.

  Armand went into his room and looked at the empty bed, just as he did every night. The sight of the lonely bed set him thinking.

  What kind of life do I really have here? Am I only a servant, after all? That was what his mother had once told him he was.

  ‘Not a servant, a mentor. You’re a new version of Jeeves for the new millennium; you’re totally indispensable to Rick and Carla. That’s rather chic, you know,’ his friend Tom had told him, to make up for Armand’s mother’s mean comments.

  It was true that Armand lived in a lovely home, in a good neighbourhood, in a great city. His little Juliette had a beautiful room and she lived contentedly. They both ate superbly every day. Carla and Rick were good for them.

  When Han had shared his bed, there had been no peace and not much fun. They’d argued most of the time. The unwanted pregnancy only worsened the situation. Han had left the hospital the day after Juliette was born. Armand had heard she’d gone back to Taiwan, leaving him here, a father all by himself. He hadn’t even tried to find Han in her own country. How could he trust her – or anyone else – after what she’d done to him?

  Armand’s mobile phone was ringing: Unknown caller.

  ‘Hello, Armand? Hi, it’s Liana. We met at Brenda’s …’

  Women nowadays do take the initiative, don’t they?

  The sweet memory of their evening together was coming back to him.

  ‘Yes, I remember. Brenda told me you asked for my number. How are you?’

  ‘Fine, thank you. And you?’

  As they started to chat they resumed the subtle flirtation they’d begun at Brenda’s dinner party, even if there was no food and champagne to savour along with it.

  ‘Tell me more about your job. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of such a thing.’

  ‘Neither had I before Tom, the friend I was staying with at the time, told me about this new trend of having a good-and-healthy-life coach. He said that a job like that could get me out of my difficult situation.’

  ‘And with your knowledge of savoir-vivre, your logic and your cooking you could be very good at it,’ Tom had encouraged.

  ‘I was talked into it, even though I wasn’t overly convinced it would work. But then what did I have to lose?’

  ‘So you’re a good-and-healthy-life coach! I hope you’ll cook something for me one of these days. Actually, I like to cook as well …’

  They began talking about their favourite dishes.

  ‘I find that sharing a meal with someone you, er, appreciate can be very comforting, very sensual,’ Liana revealed.

  Armand agreed, remembering the New Year’s Eve dinner. He also thought how well sharing an interest in food had worked out for Rick and Carla.

  Then Armand told Liana about Rick and Carla’s luxury trip.

  ‘Well, I’ve never heard of luxury culinary tourism before,’ commented Liana. ‘Of course, I couldn’t possibly afford them on my salary. With such a high standard of living, being able to afford a live-in genius like you, exclusive culinary trips, I suppose that Rick and Carla are loaded?’

  ‘Pretty much. Great careers – and no kids.’

  ‘Who would want kids with a lifestyle like that? Kids cost so much these days, and they’re so annoying!’ L
iana laughed in a way that Armand didn’t appreciate.

  Getting no reply, she continued, ‘You mentioned that you were in a difficult situation before you met Rick and Carla.’

  The conversation had definitely lost its carefree tone.

  Armand then told her about Han.

  ‘That’s awful! I’m so sorry to hear that.’

  ‘I’m fine now,’ Armand said, more confidently than he expected.

  Liana supposed that he must have a poor opinion of women after what had happened to him, but she tried to put that from her mind.

  ‘So, you have a child!’ she declared.

  Silence.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me at the dinner party?’

  ‘Would you have called me then? Especially now that I know what you think of kids.’

  When Liana hesitated, Armand left her no more time to answer.

  ‘My daughter wasn’t planned, but I really love her and I have to be responsible for her. It’s not her fault if she has brainless parents. I want to be the best father I can for her. People aren’t able to imagine how wonderful a child can be until they have one themselves.’

  ‘Possibly …’ Liana said without much conviction.

  ‘Oh, it wasn’t easy at all being on my own, with no money. Anyway, Juliette is here now, and I like my situation with Rick and Carla.’

  ‘I don’t blame you.’

  Armand had a feeling that Liana was probably less interested in him now.

  ‘Well, listen, I’ll see how busy my week ends up being and I’ll call you,’ she announced, confirming this.

  Armand could sense the disappointment in her voice and he was annoyed, not because Liana might not be interested in him any more but because she didn’t have the courage to tell him straight out it was because he was a father.

  ‘If the fact that I’ve got a child bothers you, you should tell me right away,’ he said coldly.

  ‘I don’t know, Armand. Up to now I’ve never even thought of dating someone who has a child. It’s too bad because I really like you even if I don’t know you very well. We appeared to be on the same wavelength over so much. The moments we shared at Brenda’s were delicious.’