Waiting for the Last Gasp – Adam Overland

To the friends of my friends, who welcomed me to their French themed dinner*

I want to thank you again graciously, as I did that evening when you and yours invited me to such an unforgettable soirée. The meal was marvelous, and there was so much of it — far too much to be consumed by we few, privileged guests.

You’ll recall, surely, that I praised the beef bourguignon, rich beyond what faith I’d had — until that moment — in the comprehensive powers of the whole of human sensory experience. I said as much at the time. And the potatoes au gratin — luscious in a way I dare not dwell upon, nor can indeed describe without blushing. And who among us, confronted with the clafoutis, could have done without it? I mentioned to you that I, for one, could not have.

Which makes it all the more difficult to say what I must say now: I have your Tupperware and it is unlikely that you will ever get it back.

As dinner ended, I rose to the occasion as you rose so cordially to begin to gather that which remained of the main course, the sides, the dessert. You may recall I mentioned that these unfinished delights would be the perfect complement for a bachelor such as myself, who had not for some time found opportunity to visit the supermarché. How I wondered aloud whether, if given another day or two, these works of culinary art might manifest the unimaginable and even improve upon their savory profiles, though already palate pleasing in the extreme. So sure was I that it could not possibly be, that I did speculate aloud regarding this hypothesis. I watched you hear me say it.

And so as you prepared for me food storage containers in sizes 1-cup, 3-cup, and 5-cup, I wished only that there had been more courses, for I’ve never owned containers in such thorough chronology.

And surely you’ve heard all of this ghastly microplastics chatter? I have no doubt that my own affordable food storage containers — often sandwich bags, if truth be told — leach into me with each leftover morsel a little of themselves. These microscopic plastics — which recent science has found to be present in our brains in an aggregated quantity equivalent to an ordinary spoon! Of which I must admit that I have one of yours, as well as a fork, for it would have been uncivilized entirely to treat such delicacies as you’ve provided me with as so much finger food.

In truth, when I received your invitation I knew without knowing that your own storage containers would be of the utmost quality; no mere containers, but food storage solutions, locking in flavor like the veritable Bastille, though with little chance of outside rebellion. Let them eat cake indeed — fresh as the day it was baked!

And so again, I thank you. Someday I may host a soirée of my own, with delectables at every delightful turn, and you and yours will be the guests of honor. And if there should be leftovers … Though I must say I see no such likelihood.

*This piece was previously referenced here. Publishing on its own for posterity (and SEO reasons).