Food&Drink

Romantic Story

When I was a child, my favorite book was “The ghost of the moonlight.”

The book was a classic novel where a mysterious knight (Moonlight Phantom) saved a girl in danger. The book was excellent, the cover had a classic design and belonged to my grandmother.

 “Grandma, where did you find this book?”

“The book belonged to my grandmother; it is a tradition of our family that will continue forever, you will pass it on to your daughter and her to her daughter.”

“So the book is ancient?”

“Very ancient, the legend tells that one of our ancestors wrote it.”

“Really?”

“Yes, it’s true, I met Moonlight Phantom.”

“It’s not true.”

“Yes, it’s true, and if you believe you can meet him.”

I was a child, and I believed my grandmother’s words. So one evening I read the whole book for the umpteenth time and dreamed.

 My dream was strange, I was in a mysterious castle, and I was locked in a room. My clothes had a classic design, almost medieval. The room was small, and the only light came from a torch hanging on the wall. I unplugged the flashlight and explored the room, which consisted of a small bed, a chamber pot, and some dirty bowls.

 Why was I in that room? Was that a dream or was it a reality? 

Suddenly the door opened, and a fat old man entered the room, accompanied by soldiers.

“Princess, I am the Duke of Kent, you already know me, I apologize for closing you in this cell, but everything I do has a particular reason: the love I have for you.”

“I do not understand.”

“You are always upset about my actions, I can understand it … Tomorrow morning the priest will arrive, and finally, we will be husband and wife.”

 Now I began to understand; I was in the novel!

 “I do not want to marry you!”

“Tonight you will change your mind, like it or not.”

“Monster!”

“Love me, hate me, I just want you to feel some feelings for me.”

The Duke of Kent came out of the cell and closed the door. I started to cry.

Suddenly I heard noises, and the door opened. It was Moonlight Phantom!

 His classic costume was unmistakable, completely black and a small moon embroidered on the mask.

The paladin of justice stared at me.

 “You’re more beautiful than your grandmother, Julie.”

 He knew my name.

 Phantom guided me through the dungeons to get me out of a secret passage.

“Thank you, my hero.”

“I save the girls of your family for generations; this is my mission and my curse.”

“Why?”

“Because I can not stop loving you.”

“I do not understand.”

“I could not save one of your ancestors, and your sister wrote our story … The power of love has managed to make that book live, and I save all the women in your family at least once in their lifetime. But the regret of not been able to save my woman is too horrible; I can not atone for this sin. “

 I approached him.

 “Do not be sad; you saved me.”

“Your father was a thief, he stole two stars from the sky and put them in your eyes.”

 I kissed Moonlight Phantom.

The strength of our love has allowed me to relive that scene in my dreams for a long time. Each time longer and more intense.

 Now, excuse me, I have to go back to Moonlight Phantom.

When I was a child, my favorite book was “The ghost of the moonlight.”

The book was a classic novel where a mysterious knight (Moonlight Phantom) saved a girl in danger. The book was excellent, the cover had a classic design and belonged to my grandmother.

 “Grandma, where did you find this book?”

“The book belonged to my grandmother; it is a tradition of our family that will continue forever, you will pass it on to your daughter and her to her daughter.”

“So the book is ancient?”

“Very ancient, the legend tells that one of our ancestors wrote it.”

“Really?”

“Yes, it’s true, I met Moonlight Phantom.”

“It’s not true.”

“Yes, it’s true, and if you believe you can meet him.”

I was a child, and I believed my grandmother’s words. So one evening I read the whole book for the umpteenth time and dreamed. 

My dream was strange, I was in a mysterious castle, and I was locked in a room. My clothes had a classic design, almost medieval. The room was small, and the only light came from a torch hanging on the wall. I unplugged the flashlight and explored the room, which consisted of a small bed, a chamber pot, and some dirty bowls.

 Why was I in that room? Was that a dream or was it a reality?

 Suddenly the door opened, and a fat old man entered the room, accompanied by soldiers.

“Princess, I am the Duke of Kent, you already know me, I apologize for closing you in this cell, but everything I do has a particular reason: the love I have for you.”

“I do not understand.”

“You are always upset about my actions, I can understand it … Tomorrow morning the priest will arrive, and finally, we will be husband and wife.”

 Now I began to understand; I was in the novel!

 “I do not want to marry you!”

“Tonight you will change your mind, like it or not.”

“Monster!”

“Love me, hate me, I just want you to feel some feelings for me.”

The Duke of Kent came out of the cell and closed the door. I started to cry.

Suddenly I heard noises, and the door opened. It was Moonlight Phantom!

 His classic costume was unmistakable, completely black and a small moon embroidered on the mask.

The paladin of justice stared at me.

 “You’re more beautiful than your grandmother, Julie.”

 He knew my name.

 Phantom guided me through the dungeons to get me out of a secret passage.

“Thank you, my hero.”

“I save the girls of your family for generations; this is my mission and my curse.”

“Why?”

“Because I can not stop loving you.”

“I do not understand.”

“I could not save one of your ancestors, and your sister wrote our story … The power of love has managed to make that book live, and I save all the women in your family at least once in their lifetime. But the regret of not been able to save my woman is too horrible; I can not atone for this sin. “

 I approached him.

 “Do not be sad; you saved me.”

“Your father was a thief, he stole two stars from the sky and put them in your eyes.”

 I kissed Moonlight Phantom.

The strength of our love has allowed me to relive that scene in my dreams for a long time. Each time longer and more intense.

 Now, excuse me, I have to go back to Moonlight Phantom.

Friends

Sonya sat at the elegantly dressed table. Her legs casually crossed at the ankle, her wispy floral maxi dress brushing the floor, she reflected on the authentic ambiance of the bistro’s interior. A little slice of Paris, tucked into the corner of her up and coming trendy neighborhood. It was opening night, but the place was empty.

“Here you go,” the waiter said placing a wooden bowl overflowing with salad and a glass of Sauvignon Blanc down in front of her. When her face broke into a broad smile, it punctuated her liquid blue eyes, pale pink lips and high cheek bones. He smiled appreciatively.

“Looks amazing!”

“I’ve tasted everything on the menu. Chef’s a genius. Legit talented.” Looking around at all the empty tables. “Hope he makes it.”

“Not sure the neighborhood is ready for nouveau riche French cuisine, but I certainly am.”

The waiter was dressed in black jeans, a crisp white shirt and red tie. He looked mid-twenties, was tall with gray eyes and cropped black hair. He winked. “Me too.”

Sonya hadn’t been hungry when she sat down. Her only intent was to welcome the restaurant to the area. Looking over the warm bowl of vibrant greens, saffron colored roasted chickpeas, rustic cut roasted sweet potato chunks, caramelized onions and fluffy kernels of quinoa, made her mouth water. She was suddenly starved.

“My compliments to the chef. I’d love to meet him if he has the time.”

“I’ll let him know. Bon appetite,” the waiter said as he withdrew.

***

After her second glass of wine, Sonya leaned back in her seat like a satisfied cat. She’d emptied the entire bowl and uncharacteristically, had an almond tart for dessert. She heard footsteps approaching and assumed it was the waiter.

“That was fabulous. Who knew a salad could taste that delicious?”

A voice replied, “Merci,” but it wasn’t the waiter’s voice. It was a voice she knew — very well. Like a scene from a movie, the room receded, and Sonya was transported back in time to the streets and cafes of Paris. Long walks, her hand and arms entwined in his. Passionate kisses on their tiny balcony perched above his family’s charcuterie. She could smell the ever-present aroma of smoke and cured meats even now.

When they faced each other, his eyes widened as he was jolted back in time then whiplashed forward to today. “Suh-nya?” He said half asked. Half whispered, his voice thick with his Parisian accent.

Was she happy or angry? She wasn’t sure as she stammered a reply. “Hh-hi Alex.”

“Mon Dieu – my god, what ‘re you doing ‘ere?” He pulled out the chair across from her and sat down, half tripping backward into it.”

Working to recover her equilibrium she said, “Me? Trying out the new restaurant in my neighborhood. What are you doing here?!” Emphasizing the ‘you’ in her question.

“I’m the chef own’r. We open today.”

Sonya cocked her to the side and raised an eyebrow. “No shit!” They both laughed at the obviousness of his statement. “I mean, what are you doing here! America? My neighborhood??”

His cheeks flushed against the dark olive tone of his complexion. He ran a hand through his dense curly black hair. “I’ve been in America four years. Chicago for two.”

Sonya’s heart clenched hearing his words. Six years. He’d been stateside for six years. Two years after they broke up because she couldn’t stay, and he couldn’t come, he’d moved here and hadn’t tried to contact her.

“I see,” was all she could think to say.

“How are you? You look — great,” he said trying to meet her eyes, but she looked away.”

“Good. I’m the senior curator at an art gallery downtown. Renaissance. You may have heard of it.”

He laughed. “Of course, it’s only the best in the city. Should have guessed that’s where you’d be. It was your dream, oui?”

“Yes, it was and,” she hesitated, “you could have known where I was if you’d written back. You stopped so I stopped.”

He looked down at his hands, now folded in his lap. “I know. I know. I regret.” He glanced around the room thinking how best to reply. “It seemed très impossible,” his French coming through, “very impossible then. You had to go home to your scholarship. I had to stay. Papa was too sick for me to leave.”

Sonya interrupted him. “How is he? Your mom?”

“Better thanks. Très bien. Uncle Armand is part owner now to help. Things are good.”

Sonya smiled, and it was genuine. “Good. I’m glad.”

“Look. I didn’t want us carrying this…” He struggled for the words and settled for what he knew. “This impossible love. Neither of us had money for a long-distance affair.”

“True.”

“I thought cutting it cold was better and quicker.”

“Goodbye would have been nice.” There was a tinge of resentment in her voice. She dipped her head down letting red waves of hair shield her face from him.

“Truth? Didn’t think I was strong enough for that. When I came here, figured why the hell would you want to hear from me after that?” Sonya was silent, so he continued. “Too beautiful and talented to be alone. I didn’t need hear you were with someone. So — I left it be.” She brushed the hair out of her face and looked at him in that intense way that used to ignite his desire. He was unsettled to find his body still reacted to her mannerisms.

“Of course, I moved on. After a while. Wasn’t easy.”

“As you should. Happy for you.” He sighed hearing the confirmation. If her reply had been different, he would have told her he hadn’t really moved on. Sure, he’d been with other women but nothing long term or real. The tension released from his shoulders. He sat back more relaxed.

“Nothing committed for a long while. I’m married to my career, I’ve been told.” She rolled her eyes and smirked.

Alex watched her throw her head back slightly as she did, remembering how he adored slipping in to nuzzle and nip her neck. He licked his lips. Hesitantly, he reached his hand across the table. “Friends?”

Sonya leaned on the table, propping up her chin on her clasped hands. “Hrm, let me think about that.”

Alex was encouraged by her sultry tone. He reached up and traced her cheek with the back of his hand. His heart leapt in his chest when she leaned into it. He put his hands palms up on the table in front of her and asked again. “Copains? Friends?”

Sonya curled her hands inside of his. “Oui, copains.” She tousled his hair. “Maybe more.”

Alex took the hint. He rushed to her side, lifted her off her feet, crushing her to his chest. When she tipped her face up to his, he kissed her slowly and gently, rocking her side to side.

Trip across India in a rickshaw

My brothers and I just did a really fun and difficult journey across India in a rickshaw. It’s, a rickshaw is a three-wheeled, a little three-wheeled vehicle. It’s a cross between a car and a motorcycle. It has no doors and it has no trunk to put luggage in, and it has a little, it has a little steering bar like a motorcycle and it doesn’t go very fast, and we drove this all the way across the country from Bangladesh to Pakistan, and it was a crazy journey, it was crazy, very dangerous and full of surprises and very hard of your body and your mind and I did this, with my two brothers in a rickshaw.

My brothers and I filmed the entire journey in the rickshaw with a professional video camera. One of my dreams in life is to make a documentary for TV and we decided to make a documentary of our trip across India and it was very difficult. We thought it would be easy, but when we started to do this it was very, very tough.

They make it look easy on television and when you have the camera and you’re trying to video people it’s very difficult. They don’t do what you want to do and the weather doesn’t cooperate with you, and maybe the camera breaks down and you’re tired and you can’t get the video shots that you want and it becomes like a game, or struggle, trying to get the best shots, trying to get the most interesting shots, and it is like a game, a fun, and frustrating game, but by the end of the trip, we managed to get all of the video, and we put together a very interesting three minute video, and a couple of Indian video producers helped us put this together, and you can see the short video on the web site www.eagarbros.com, and I think you’ll like it.

It’s full of surprises and full of funny and strange sites and full of action, so, it’s pretty good. I think you’ll like it.