The Elusive Bite

It's early in the afternoon, before the dinner shift. The kitchen, which I didn't get to see my first time around, is bright and calm. But during dinner, he says, the work of the main meal is like a fight. He jabs his elbows like a streetfighter. "It is, how do you say, the coeur de feu."

"Because it is so small, should an hors d'oeuvre be more intense than the main meal?" I ask as we wait for the tart tatin to bake.

"Definitely. Intense. Explosive." His face contorts as he struggles to get around the last word. "It is amuse bouche. It means happy and mouth." Finally, instinctively, I realize that what he means is generosity, a commitment to the oeuvre, a humility in the face of the explosion, big or small. I don't know if there is such a thing as the perfect bite. Maybe there are many. But the thing that comes out of the oven is pretty close.