JulieLeung.com: a life told in tidepools

I do things with Ted I would never do with anyone else.

Like trying carpaccio.

All I knew about the dish was that involved raw beef. But that was enough knowledge to caution this former microbiologist.

Perhaps though I am iron-deficient. Or maybe I needed a little risk in my life.

After all, I trust my husband. Wherever he goes, I’ll go.

So when Ted ordered carpaccio tonight at the restaurant, I tried it too.

The plate came from the kitchen worthy of a photograph, although our date nights are rare and sacred enough that a camera would corrupt them.

It was red. Bright red. Thin circles of raw beef slightly frozen laid across the plate, decorated with dots of mayonnaise and large capers. A small salad piled in the center.

It was a carnivore sensation. I committed an act that betrayed my vegetarian leanings. I felt guilty taking a bite. To eat the carpaccio, we had to use knife and fork to cut a piece from the plate and then roll it, like a tortilla.

The meat melted in the mouth. It was soft and cold and salty. The capers and mayonnaise added flavor. It tasted reminiscent of a roast beef sandwich, but one elegant and rich, the best part, without bread. I became addicted. A tentative bite turned into three.

Although the dish comes with parmesian, we asked for that to be omitted for Ted. I’m curious what it would have tasted with the cheese, but I liked what we ate.

I’m grateful I married Ted. He does things I would never do, and then I end up trying them with him. Life would be safer without him, but would I laugh as often?

Sometimes sharing a plate of raw meat becomes the highlight of the night, a memory to savor along with the date, an adventure of marriage to add to the others collected through the years as we sit at the table together and reminsce about where we’ve been and where we would like to go. Scrapbook page: carpaccio.