This is the final of the readings I considered for the wedding but that ultimately didn't make the grade. It's from the novel The Gone Away World by Nick Harkaway and details an odd metric for selecting a woman to love, but also neatly wraps up why that seemingly trite metric actually has some broad repercussions for the whole repercussions...
The Gone Away World
I have a date in a war zone. That's not bad going, actually, but now I need an Italian trattoria with check tablecloths and linen napkins. I need bruschetta (that's "broo-SKET-uh," not "brushetter," a slender piece of ciabatta toasted and brushed with garlic and oil and covered in fresh tomato and basil--the chunks inevitably fall off the bread and the olive oil runs over your lips and down your chin. The whole thing is delicious, deeply physical and delightfully undignified, and a woman who can eat a real bruschetta is a woman you can love and who can love you. Someone who pushes the thing away because it's messy is never going to cackle at you toothlessly across the living room of your retirement cottage or drag you back from your sixth heart attack by sheer furious affection. Never happen. You need a woman who isn't afraid of a faceful of olive oil for that)There'll be one more post soon, with my actual reading, to complete the set.
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