Last night Gunnar treated us to dessert at a lovely restaurant. I was anticipating a reliable standard…some delicious ice cream, a piece of apple pie or, perhaps, a slice of chocolate cake. One of these would have been perfectly fine but Gunnar had his eye on something different.

The waiter placed a thick rectangular slab of marble on the table – it was warm to the touch. On the marble platter were the following ingredients: candied walnuts, toasted almonds, sliced apple, poached figs, walnut levain and a triangle of Cravanzina, a creamy cow and sheep milk cheese from Piemonte.

Piemonte is a region of northwestern Italy – the capital is Turin. Piemonte is surrounded on three sides by the Alps mountain range, including the Monviso, where the Po River rises, and Monte Rosa. It borders with France, Switzerland, and the Italian regions of Lombardy, Liguria, Emilia-Romagna, and the Aosta Valley. Thanks Wikipedia! We need to go to Piemonte.

You may be thinking, what’s the big deal? She just described a bunch of fruits and nuts sitting next to some bread and cheese on a weird heated serving dish. We can eat nuts and fruit at home. Heck, she’s a vegetarian, she does it all the time anyway.

Each thin apple slice was carved in the shape of a tulip leaf and fanned out, standing upright, on the right corner of the grey marble. I still can’t figure out how the apple slices didn’t fall over in transit. In front of the apples were the poached figs, sliced in small flat ovals, their seeds glistening in a blanket of sweet liquor. The ovals formed a diamond shape and sat in a thin pool of deep purple. Sprinkled around and on top of the figs were the almonds, so perfectly toasted that they broke in half when just kissed by the tip of the tongue. On the left side of the platter was a small pyramid of walnuts coated with a slight dusting of cinnamon, sugar and butter, served cool, and feather light to the touch. The walnut levain held court in the top left corner, the slices were paper thin, yet hearty in flavor, and served warm. Just warm enough to inspire the Cravanzina, it’s triangular neighbor, to melt ever so slightly onto the bread.

The combinations! Cravanzina on a slice of apple topped with a bit of fig! Cravanzina on levain with a slice of apple! Nibble on an almond after it floats in the purple elixir. Place a spoonful of chocolate pudding into your mouth and follow it with a candied walnut. Wait! I didn’t mention the decadent chocolate pudding with chocolate-infused whipped cream? The frothy concoction housed in a dainty glass arrived just moments after the fromage platter.

I’d like to deliver our dessert to everyone in the world tonight. I imagine they would breathe in the aromas and it would calm them down. I imagine they would taste the sweetness and it would make them smile. I imagine they would finish it, every nut and slice and crumb, and feel content, satisfied, safe, and at peace.

Thank you Gunnar for reminding me to savor the simple things. The proof…is in the pudding!

On my drive home from the post office a dog showed me that I have mastered the art of being patient, the art of appreciating beauty, and that I can face my fears.

As I approached a stop sign I noticed that a dog was up ahead. She was smelling something in the middle of the street. She was a beautiful black afghan hound and completely unaware that she was in danger. I recognized the breed because I was once mesmerized by an afghan hound while watching The Westminster Dog Show on television. When you see an afghan hound you don’t know if you should be in awe or laugh really hard. I’ll leave that up to you:

I sat at the intersection. Luckily no cars were coming. The dog continued to stand in the middle of the street. She was transfixed. I stuck my head out the window to get a better look – what was she smelling? The street…she was smelling the street. I looked at her shiney long coat and noticed her short curly tail. I thought a dog that size would have a bigger tail. Why did she even need a tail like that? Then I noticed she had on a collar and tags. I would pull over and call her owner.

I’m not a fan of dogs these days…especially big dogs that I’ve never met before. I was in a pitbull attack a few years ago and no longer trust dogs. However, I didn’t want her to get hurt. I had to find her owner.

Also, she finally looked up and we made eye contact. She looked serene. In fact, she reminded me of Jesus. I’ll leave that up to you:

Five minutes passed before the dog slowly walked over to the sidewalk. I pulled the car over and walked to her. I took a deep breath and was ready to introduce myself…but I didn’t get a chance. She looked at me for a moment and then headed up the porch steps to the closest house. She barked and a few moments later the front door opened.

When I pulled up to the stop sign my first instinct was to honk at the dog…but I didn’t. Instead I gave her the right of way. Of course, I was concerned that she was in the middle of the street but it wasn’t busy, and I would have stopped anyone from harming her. So, I didn’t rush the situation. In fact, I just appreciated the situation I unexpectedly found myself in. She was a magnificent creature and I really admired her beauty. I liked that she was lost in the moment…caught in the story of a scent.

A dog trainer once explained to me that odor remains on things for a certain amount of time, and for a dog, having a chance to smell them is similar to watching a movie of all of the things that could have happened in that place in the past. He stated that dog owners often get angry at their dogs for stopping to smell things, but it is truly the best way dogs have to discover the world around them; it’s similar to the way individuals use their sense of sight to figure out what’s going on. I’m glad this dog helped me discover who I am today. And I hope she liked the movie.