Nov 06 2008
Let Those Who Have Ears to Hear, Eat Them
The Good | Pushing People’s Buttons
You can get away with just about anything if someone thinks you’re listening to them. I don’t mean that in a deceitful way, or a manipulative way. Your attentiveness could be completely genuine; it is not how it is sent but how it is received. I’m simply astonished at what an effective tool it is to turn people on by paying them attention.
The neighbor that lives across the cul de sac from me is a gourmet chef. He has been cooking since he was 17 and worked his way up into owning his own fine food store and lunchtime eatery. Over this next year he’s seeking to expand into a second location in the part of town that believes it’s upscale.
I word it that way simply because the “popular” kids are rarely the ones who know people and have people that know them, so much as they are the ones that imagine themselves to be the best, have money, and/or are flakes; this area of town, actually now a separately incorporated polity, had oodles of money but is generally no different from the surrounding area in any distinguishing way.
Sorry for the tangent. Given my newfound interest in cooking, especially in the brass tacks elements like budgeting, I’d be a natural fit for work with him, certainly given my additional desire to have any job whatsoever, and recently I was requested to produce a unique and flavorful meal for my grandparents during an upcoming visit to the area. I made the intended dish once before, a moussaka, but also read that a non-Greek version of this eggplant dish is a popular Turkish variety. My neighbor’s a Turk, so I connected the dots and sought his advice.
The conversation never got to jobs but I made a case for myself as a passionate, if brainfart-ridden cook, and left it at that. He was helpful, seemed interested and patient and possibly enjoyed the conversation as much as I did (a sign of how much he loves what he does, no doubt - most people struggle to finish a conversation with me).
Not much of anything happened, and then half an hour later while I visited my sister on the back patio he knocked on the door to provide me a book on loan, of the history and practical application of basic French cuisine.
It touches back on one of my first posts, about turning people on, “activating them.” It’s a simple gesture, a simple method. Listen. Give a hoot, or at least pretend to. It’s a way to separate the days from one another. Who knows? You just might learn something. I know I will. Then I’m going to eat what I’ve learned.
