I heard Mas Masumoto speak today on Inspiration–not only in food and culinary matters, but universally. I  had some wonderful opportunities to speak with him afterwords. If you don’t know who he is, you should.

Now we all know what a media and food whore I am, but Mas’ presentation today brought out of the depths of memory why. He set us all a challenge–write about when we lost our culinary virginity. Each table, amidst breakfasting remnants were supplied with notecards and told to write a short tale. Several people were given an opportunity to read them to the thousand plus audience. I was about to rise but was stayed by a greater presence than I who spoke eloquently about a grapefruit in orgasmic terms. I could not hope to follow it with my doggerel. Now this, of course, wasn’t my first food epiphany but it was relevant because to the moment and my mood. I have lost the notecard to the annals of the event but here is close to what I remember writing–and I don’t know why.

"I lost my culinary virginity when I was raped by Foie Gras. It was a warm summer day on the island and the breeze blew in off the bay. In the house Chef called me over as he unpacked his massive lobe. He bade me pay attention as he massaged and carressed it. He allowed me to touch and feel its texture. And he asked me to wash his berries. Things began heating up and in a flash–seasonings, heat, Foie, berries, juice. Wow."

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