According to Dr. Gary Chapman, there are five languages of love, and we all speak love in one of those…
But I think Dr. Chapman forgot one of the languages of love, and its the one I speak most fluently:
My friend Emily speaks the love language of food, too, and last Autumn we spent every Wednesday chatting away in our favorite language, lavishing our love on each other in the form of cookies and pies and sourdough bread and the BEST. SCONES. EVER.
When I left North Carolina on Christmas Eve, I was, of course, sad to leave a friend who understood me so well – one who heard me loud and clear when I spoke in the way that comes easiest to me. I won’t deny I shed a tear or two when she presented me with a little cookbook she put together for me called Friendship & Food – a compilation of the photos and recipes that punctuated the long (and continuing) paragraph that is our friendship.
While I’m not looking for a replacement for Emily – that old song, Make new friends, but keep the old comes to mind – I have found a friend here on this side of the Atlantic that I think may just be able to understand my culinary dialect. Sarah (who’s actually another American married to an Englishman) invited me to London today, for the express purpose of tasting “the most delicious cappuccino in the world” and walking around Borough Market – which is just stalls and stalls of gourmet food.
Oui, s’il vous plaît.
Si, por favor.
Chocolate chip cookies.
And in case you need something to wash it all down…