Those of you accustomed to fine dining will be familiar with that most competitively pretentious of foodie flourishes: the Amuse Bouche.
For the culinarily disadvantaged amongst the readership, this is a preparatory bite-sized morsel which delivers a promise of the chef’s mastery and serves to excite the taste buds. The phrase literally translates as ‘Mouth Amuser’ and is not ordered but offered in accordance with the chef’s artistic whimsy.
The amuse bouche is an increasingly commonplace commencement of the dining experience, but its importance lies not in the nutritional satisfaction. After all, where is the bellyful in a teaspoon of white asparagus mousse or a fork’s worth of liquid salt cod bon bon with crushed cream peas and smoked milk? The role it plays lies in what it represents: The foretaste, the anticipation, the tantalizing stimulus of the senses. It is the whetting of the appetite.
Now, permit a metaphorical migration if you will. There are times in life when we feel dissatisfied, somehow undernourished and in need of sustenance, but uncertain as to what we are hungry for. It is easy in such circumstances to forage fruitlessly and earnestly in the relentless pursuit of our intangible daily bread.
But instead of searching, why not start by opening your senses to see what excites them? The sprinkling thrill of anticipation is offered freely if you are prepared to accept its offering.
Remember the amuse bouche is not a meal in itself, just the start. To be fully sated you must enjoy the full repast. So having whetted your appetite, you may then proceed with gusto to the starter, the main and dessert.
Man cannot live by amuse bouche alone, so indulge yourself in sensational pleasure. Consume rapaciously until you are pleasantly full. And if you overeat a little, unable to resist that tiny wafer thin mint or petit fours, you can always sleep it off afterwards.
Go on, for once, amuse yourself.
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