Like certain songs or musical motifs, certain food brings me back to a specific place in time and circumstance, recalling memories from a life that seemed so long ago, when really it’s only been a matter of months. The world has shifted remarkably in those months, however, and the shift may be more permanent and lasting than any of us can fathom or make motions to understand. This wasn’t meant to get so deep so quickly, and for a Wednesday morning post it may break the week in half before we even cross the formal hump. It’s really just meant to describe the joy and melancholy I experienced as I assembled this simple summer snack of apricots and prosciutto.
The last time I enjoyed the sweet and salty combination was when I was visiting Boston with Andy last summer. I’d stopped at Eataly for provisions and found a little container of apricots, along with some impossibly-thin prosciutto that you could practically see through – ribbons of salty pink glory for citrus-hued sweetness. We took our places at the table overlooking Braddock Park and slowly ate our way through the apricots and meat. This is what other people get to do, I thought at the time. Other people being those with the money and leisure and luxury I’d never have. Back then, and it was only a few months ago I have to keep reminding myself, comparative living was how I went about things, hence a nagging, gnawing sense of dissatisfaction, even when I ate the things more fortunate people ate, even when I wore their cologne, or walked in their fancy shoes.
Today, I savor the apricots and prosciutto on my own, not bothering with comparisons to other people. It’s a more peaceable and happy existence to focus solely on the sensation of a ripe apricot bursting with its juicy, ripened flesh, paired so spectacularly with the soft, savory flavor of the prosciutto. It’s more fun to appreciate what I have on its own merit instead of wondering how it compares to those around me. That’s a fundamental shift in my own perspective that has changed in the past few months. In some ways, the change came just in time, just as the world was shifting its paradigms with gigantic effects. Again, I didn’t mean to plummet so deeply into chasms so rife with relatively unexplored shadows. Luckily, there is beauty here, a more subtle and shaded beauty perhaps, the sort that must be held a little longer, heard only in the silence and stillness that a certain state of calm confers.
