Philip had been dragged along to an experimental restaurant by his friends Lena and Vish who were into that sort of thing. It didn’t do much for him generally. It was all a bit pretentious. Lots of nibbling and deconstruction, whereas he preferred big bites. Full cheeks and fully constructed.
After they were seated, the waitstaff went to work. Appearing out of the shadows, they glided around silently. Expressionless and with immaculate hair. Perfect oil slicks set in place.
Bread was served. Not physical bread but rather a 3D projection of bread which was cast above their table. A tiny fan wafted the smell of baking bread in their direction. A fully immersive bread experience, minus the eating.
Lena and Vish were beside themselves. Whispering and wide-eyed as the first course came out. A soup that had been deconstructed, constructed, then deconstructed again. This wound up Philip no end.
After this was a palette cleanser: a nature documentary followed by open water swimming in a wild river that ran through the middle of the restaurant.
The courses continued to come out thick and fast. For mains it was the stringy bits from a banana elaborately spiralled on a plate, followed by jelly from the underside of chicken that had been cooked and then refrigerated, and a poem from a local writer about prawn cocktails. A small compliment sandwich was served on gluten-free bread, remarking on his bold choice of aftershave, which felt more backhanded if anything. Then directly following this: a course called Meeting in the Middle, which included a piece of toast and a strawberry jam enema. Lena and Vish kept throwing out terms like 'genius' and 'masterful', whilst simultaneously admonishing Philip for not finishing his chicken jelly. Then again for his blatant disrespect due to a reluctance to complete the jam portion of the meal.
'They offered a marmalade too, I don't know why you didn't ask for that if you don’t like strawberry', scolded Vish.
Philip had never felt so tense. He tried to take a break in the bathroom, but there weren't any. They offended the head chef apparently, and so there would be no toilet breaks. Any additional napkins they requested were presented frozen in liquid nitrogen, showering the table each time in a cloud of vapour. Philip would dab carefully at the corner of his mouth before the napkin would ultimately shatter into a million pieces.
Then came an announcement that the final course was to be served. Thank GOD, thought Philip. He was desperate for a bathroom at this point and was generally just feeling a bit worse for wear. He’d scraped his elbow during the open water swimming and was fairly sure he had ice burns around his mouth.
The kitchen doors opened, signaling dessert was on its way, and a man wearing an all black nurses outfit holding a pouch came over to their table and administered them all a shot of insulin.
Bowls of ice-cream were placed on the table, but they were not meant to be eaten, Lena informed them.
'Genius' said Vish, wincing as the needle went into his arm.
Philip couldn’t get out any quicker. He'd left Lena and Vish to it, and opted to walk home. The restaurant had refused to call him a cab. Something about it offending the head chef apparently. And so he’d trudged off into the night, unsatiated and filled with chicken jelly, stringy bits and strawberry jam. His doggy bag having of course been frozen in liquid nitrogen, leaving a trail of icy mist behind him.
Hi, hope you enjoyed that little story. I wanted to drop a note here to check in. Remind you I'm still here and not an AI bot or anything like that. It's felt like a lot has been happening lately so I've just sort of gotten on with things and tried to send something out when I've had time.
To paint a picture of what's coming up, in a few months my wife and I are headed up to the north of Western Australia to stay on a sheep station for a holiday. I know, more sheep. It's not really about the sheep though. There's lots of other stuff going on there, and I won't have to look after any animals either. It feels very outback-y up that way so I'm excited to see a bit more of that part of the world and hopefully share that experience if I find I have something interesting and/or funny to say about it.
Aside from that, there'll be more of the same. Maybe some unfinished ideas from my travels last year, stories from long before that and unrelated to travel, plus a few other bits and bobs on the ideas pile.
Since I've started doing this, I've found the method that seems to work is essentially just trying to amuse myself, and then trust that it translates into something worth reading. Maybe it's hit and miss sometimes, but it's all in the hope of making something delightful and surprising, and keeping things interesting. It's a work in progress obviously, but it probably always will be, and I guess that's part of the fun.
That's it. Thanks as always for reading and please reach out and say hi if you feel inclined (or reply to this email). It's always nice to hear from people :)
This is brilliant Michael, love this story.
Love it! So crazy that sometimes the actual food is lost amongst the wordy descriptions of the food and we can go home hungry & disappointed. A great life observation.