It’s been just over a month since my wedding day and just one month since I had a life altering experience on my honeymoon. Our trip, aptly named ‘Tour de Food’, was a culinary enterprise at the best foodie spots Seattle had to offer. This post is about one of the 2 contrasting experiences that changed how I see human relationships. This is about our night at Canlis (https://canlis.com/).
The first experienced changed everything about ourselves. I never thought I could have a meal do that, but it did and it did so unexpectedly.
After hearing the hype from family and friends, we decided to make Canlis the star of our ‘Tour de Food’. We paid for their Tree-house special and anticipated that we would sit amongst another dozen or so couples on the restaurant’s rooftop overlooking Lake Washington. We expected to feel out of place sitting amongst wealth and potentially fame. We expected to feel awkward. All of our expectations were based out of any normative dining experience.
Instead, we had walked through a storage area through a narrow staircase to find we would be alone the whole evening barre the occasional interruption from our waiter. Our private “yurt” held a single table with a plain white tablecloth warmed by a wood fireplace. A cowhide rug laid comfortably underneath our feet. Across the edge of the water the city’s lights sparkled like the night sky while gentle jazz played on a small radio.
Each course was a delight that pressed our boundaries further with each bite. Early in the evening we were told we could request anything. We thought hard through 2 courses, but we decided to utilize this offer in the most meaningful way with a dance.
We lamented how fast our wedding day had passed and how most everyone left so early, but we understood their reasons. Sure, we were able to get our first dance in, but we didn’t get to dance nearly as much as we had wanted. Explaining our reasoning, we asked the waiter if we could have time between one of the courses for such an occasion. Our waiter replied “I’ll see what I can do” and stated “you will know when the time is right”.
About 30 minutes later, the music switched from elevator gentleness to something more classic. Playing to a tune by Louis Armstrong, we were given ample time to embrace. We felt lucky. We felt alive.
Finishing the meal, we could only marvel at what had transpired that night. Not only had we fell more in love than just days before, but we had learned in that moment to honor the experience of life. There are very few people that could appreciate what the people of Canlis had given us. They didn’t just give us a nice meal, but a reason to strive for the details of life. It is in those details that you find the soul, the authentic self.
Most of the evening we had joked. “So-and-so would hate this”, I’d say. “Oh, most definitely. Could you imagine [other person] trying this? They wouldn’t last the night!”, she would reply. Grateful never felt so fulfilling. We were grateful to be the type of people we had become, to be able to try vastly different food, and to be grateful that we could share something so special. Most of all, we were happy to have each other. We didn’t have to share each other in a crowd.
We could be grateful. We could be together.
I hope that you try to treat yourself with some great food in the near future. November is a fantastic month for it. Also, I hope that you can reflect on what I’m trying to say here. Namely, consider all aspects of your dining experience, of your social experiences. Every little aspect builds upon the other. (Taste, touch, sight, sound, emotion, attitude). If you notice the details, you can be grateful for almost anything.
As always, I hope you found something to add to your everyday rhetoric repertoire. Thank you for reading.