Gastronome

Word of the Day Friday, February 19, 2010

gastronome

\GAS-truh-nohm\ , noun;

1. A connoisseur of good food and drink.

She was desperate. That was all there was to it. She was 34 without a serious boyfriend, let alone a husband, in sight and she was desperate for a baby. The men she dated could sense it, maybe even smell it on her even though she never mentioned marriage or children. She figured it was only equally desperate men who actually signed up for speed dating, so here she was.

The bell rang and she then had five minutes to convince a new man she was interesting enough to spend more time with. She had started to notice that everyone had created their own litmus test of sorts. "Do you speak a second language?" "What is your favorite book?" "What polysyllabic word best describes you?"

"Um," she had replied starting to list off words in her head.

"Ehhh," he had buzzed, "Sorry Contestant Number 8. 'Um' is a one syllable word. Thank you for playing."

She had sat there stunned for a moment. Then smiled brightly, "Got me there!" she said pointing a finger at him playfully. "Let me guess what your word would be, you know, for the losers bracket."

He laughed, "Sure, I'll let you try," he leaned back and crossed his arms arrogantly.

She pretended to squeeze a buzzer like on Jeopardy, "What is a sanctimonious prick," she curtly replied.

His mouth tightened into a firm line. He waited a beat and then buzzed again, "Ehhh, too bad Contestant Number 8. Sanctimonious prick is two words. Tough break," he replied his arms still folded tightly..

"Well, I found I just couldn't encompass your essence in just one word," she answered a smug smile creeping across her face. She looked at her watch.

They still had four minutes left.

They sat there in silence for a moment. "Gastronome," she said out of the blue.

"Excuse me?" he asked leaning forward an inch.

"My polysyllabic description. Gastronome," she answered.

She could see him rolling this around in his head for a moment. "Do you eat milk chocolate?" he asked casually.

"Of course," she immediately replied, not thinking twice about the answer.

He barked out a honking laugh, "You've got to be kidding me! What self respecting gastronome eats milk chocolate?!? Personally, I never eat less than 70% cacao. God!" he continued to chuckle.

She let a bemused smirk spread across her face although she said nothing. "What?" he finally asked. "It is cute really. But just so….passé. I only eat dark chocolate," she replied in a stuffy voice mimicking him. He bristled, "What do you know about it? Are you looking forward to Cadbury Eggs this Easter?" he asked harshly.

She stared at him for a long moment, "I know plenty about it. I work for Rober Linxe. After this miserable evening I'm leaving for Paris to help develop his line of gourmet milk chocolates," she replied never dropping eye contact.

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times.

"You know, I'm really starting to like you. You're feisty. Do you want to exchange numbers?" he asked.

She looked at him, for the first time really taking in his appearance. He was handsome, dark hair, square jaw, a nicely built chest, coordinated nice clothing. Everything she had been looking for.

"You know, I don't think so," she told him with a friendly smile.

He snorted, "You're what, 34 almost 35? And you desperately want kids, right? How many chances do you think you've still got?" he asked.

The buzzer went off and she glanced down the row of remaining speed daters. Almost as if to prove his point she saw that there were only a couple of men left to talk to.

"So, what do you say?" he asked, standing up and inching towards the next table.

"I say that, yet, I am desperate for a family. But not desperate enough to date you," and then turned to the next man approaching her table and flashed him a large smile. "So," started off after he sat down, "What polysyllabic word best describes you?" she asked with a coy smile.