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The Chef Went Quiet

March 4, 2013

I was locked in a cell for stealing. It looked more like a pottery studio. I was going to be beheaded at dawn. Gwilym helped me escape by causing a luggage distraction. 

Gwilym showed Jeff and me where he lived in Paris. It was the second floor of a completely glass skyscraper. We were looking up from a very busy dining area into the very busy building. I said that he must not get a lot of privacy. “You can partition the whole thing off with curtains,” he said. 

A French chef was preparing food in front of us. Jeff picked up a fork and sampled what he was making (some kind of green, stuffed pasta). The chef didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he seemed to find the cheeky behaviour fun. At first. They conversed a little in French, then Jeff continued to sample every dish that the chef made. The chef went quiet, but Jeff continued to eat. At one point he put down his fork and asked, “this fork is dirty – do you have another?” The chef reluctantly took another fork out for Jeff to continue to taste his fare for free. I said that I was going for a walk. 

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