Eat Your Heart Out

It’s human nature to miss something or someone not there. We can’t help it. We crave that feeling they elicit, that feeling liken to coming home after a long time away.

Often, when I travel, I come across something so special that I have ‘til we meet again dreams about it until that blessed day of reunion comes, if I’m ever so lucky. I have quite a few of those things—driving past fields of sunflowers in Tuscany, exploring the Louvre; the music at the bars in Nashville, Maui’s island culture; Irish coffees at Buena Vista in San Francisco, churros and chocolate at El Moro in Mexico City, and so many others. I think we all have these yearnings for those things that remind us of a wonderful time, and we wish that we could bring those things back to us.

I have visited my cousin in Charlotte, NC a grand total of once in the better part of two years since she moved there. She was brave. With a dream, a husband, and a seven-months-baked bun on the over, she fled San Diego for greener pastures—much greener, damn California drought. I miss her, but she isn’t my ’til we meet again. My ‘til we meet agains for Charlotte are a delicious dish of shrimp and crawfish etouffee from the picturesque wonder that is Cajun Queen, as well as the decadent, mouth watering macarons of Amélie’s.

I can’t help it. My taste buds drive my travels and most of my longings. Last week, this cousin sent three of the latter delightful treats in a lovely white box across the country and straight to my door. Life Tip #4: If your ‘til we meet again shows up at your doorstep, devour it—(wo)man, pastry, or opportunity. Don’t wait. I waited, wanting to enjoy those macarons with a glass of wine and an appetite. Within 12 hours, I lost them to the bottom of a trashcan and one thoughtless act by my SO’s roommate.

Can you tell I’m still torn up about it? ‘Til we meet again, Amélie’s macarons.


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