Solitary Supper
by RC DeWinter
Title
Solitary Supper
Artist
RC DeWinter
Medium
Painting - Digital Oils
Description
Copyright 2014 RC deWinter ~ All Rights Reserved
A couple of weeks after Edward Hopper had come to dinner, I was killing some time on a Saturday afternoon in New Haven, waiting until an evening jazz and blues jam scheduled at a club for later that evening. I strolled lazily along Chapel Street, still amazed at all the changes that had taken place from when I first lived there years ago. The big anchor stores and many of the family businesses that used to dominate downtown are gone, replaced by boutiques, coffee bars and trendy little eateries. Oh, there are still a few old friends, Claire's and Atticus and the Yale Co-Op, but many of the places I remember fondly no longer exist. As I stood ogling the pastry in a bakery, wondering if I should indulge, someone walked up and nudged me.
I turned, ready to be hit on by a panhandler or some hopefully harmless lunatic. Imagine my surprise as I saw that it was Edward, wearing a summer slouch hat, carrying his ever-present leather satchel and grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
"I thought I might have to wait until this evening to see you," he said. "I remember, you see, that this is the first Saturday of the month and hoped you might be down at Cafe Nine for the jam session. I planned to go there later, but here you are."
"Why you sly dog," I laughed. "I'm flattered both that you remembered and that you want to see me for some reason."
Edward took my arm and said "Come, I want to buy you lunch. After that delightful dinner you prepared for me it's the least I can do. Let's go to that Mexican place where we met briefly a few months ago, the menu looked intriguing."
"Sounds good to me," I answered. "The the food there is excellent. Quite authentic. And besides, they have Negra Modelo on tap, the perfect refresher for a hot summer afternoon."
We headed off in the direction of the restaurant.
"I'm sure you didn't come down to New Haven just to see me," I remarked. "I take it you have something to do with friends or at the University."
Edward waved dismissively. "I've been here since Thursday," he answered. "More nonsense with my insides. Just a check-up. Nothing to be concerned about."
"I would hope not," I said. "If you were still having digestive trouble the last thing I'd recommend would be Mexican."
We reached the restaurant and were seated at one of the outdoor umbrella-shaded tables on the sidewalk. Silently we perused the menu. There were so many tasty dishes I was having a hard time deciding, and when our waiter came over to recite the specials, I became even more confused. Edward, however, knew when he wanted.
"I'll start with the Ceviche de Pescado," he said, "and a Modelo Especial. For my entrde I'll have the fish fajitas and a side of fried plantains that the lady and I will share."
I looked up from the menu, surprised. "How did you know I like fried plantains?"
"I didn't," Edward replied. "But they are delicious, and I would've urged you to try them. What a happy coincidence that you enjoy them."
I was torn between the Carne Asada and the Credo de los Tres Chiles but finally decided on the pork, with a plain cheese quesadilla for an appetizer.
"And please bring a Negra Modelo with the quesadilla," I told the waiter. He disappeared to bring our order to the kitchen and fetch our beer from the bar.
Edward leaned forward a bit and said, "After visiting you for dinner in your rather spartan surroundings - although your kitchen is charming - and seeing how thin you are, I begin to wonder how it is you eat when you are alone. I'm willing to bet you don't cook for yourself too often."
"Well aren't you the wizard,' I answered somewhat testily. "It's true, I don't cook much anymore. Food has always been a social thing for me, and being alone so often I don't get excited about the culinary arts the way I used to."
Edward smiled. "I knew it. And after thinking about that for a while, I did a small piece based on what I thought a typical meal for you might be."
"Am I going to get to see this new work?" I asked.
"Of course," he replied, "but not until after lunch."
The waiter reappeared with our beer and appetizers. Edward eyed the ceviche and asked, "What is the fish today?"
"Fresh red snapper," answered the waiter. "Marinated in lime juice and coconut milk and seasoned with a mixture of spices and fresh cilantro."
"Wonderful," replied Edward, stabbing a chunk of fish with his fork. He closed his eyes and smiled as he chewed while I dug right into my quesadilla after having liberally smeared it with salsa.
We passed the rest of our meal chatting casually about this and that. Edward waxed rapturous about the weeks he and Jo spent near the river in Vermont, saying
it renewed him to be surrounded by trees and woods.
After we finished eating, the table was cleared and we were each enjoying another beer when Edward said, "And now I will show you what I have painted."
He pulled up his satchel and took out the painting, carefully wrapped as always. He slid it out of the paper and held it up.
"This is how I imagine you at dinner most nights," he said. "I took note of what was on your shelves in that open pantry in the kitchen. Tell me, am I right?"
I looked at the bowl of lentil soup he'd painted sitting on the corner of my messy coffee table and smiled ruefully.
"I have to hand it to you, Edward, that's typical."
"You should treat yourself better," Edwards said. "Indulge a little; spend some time in the kitchen making real meals."
I looked him square in the face and said, "I'm just not that motivated. You're right, I should, but somehow when evening rolls around I just don't."
"Well, think about it at least," he said. "Now that I've shown you the painting, you'd better take a picture of it so you can remember it, and remember my advice as well."
I took out my little camera and shot a couple of photos.
"I'm not promising anything, Edward," I answered. "But I will think about it, and we'll see what happens."
"Good enough," he said. "And now I am off, back to the Cape. Be well, pamper yourself."
And with that Edward summoned the waiter, paid the bill, got up, turned around, waved and left.
~ copyright 2014 RC deWinter
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Thanks to the group hosts for their encouragement and support.
food, soup, bowl, table, still life, dinner, books, supper, meal, lentil soup, magazines, realism, spoon, dishes, crockery, contemporary, wall art, food art, warm, warm colors, coffee table, coffeetable, square, square format, rc dewinter, dewinter
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August 9th, 2014
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