My Melodic Metamorphosis

When the dessert was set before me and I slipped my fork into my mouth a very noticeable “Mmmm…” and sigh escaped me. I stopped chewing. Did I always make sounds like this during dessert?

MMM….Yes!  Ah! Oh my God! Wow! So good! Sob. Sigh.

The sounds of Europe are melodies arising from creamy garlicky pasta, 10-year old balsamic vinegar, robust wines, mouth watering desserts, the softest cashmere sweaters, smooth leather, beautiful dark haired men, and awe inspiring history.

The first time I noticed the melody was as I was seated alone at a white table-clothed outdoor patio in Barcelona. Sated with white wine and warm goat cheese salad I selected a beautiful dessert that would top off a perfect solo lunch.

And that’s when I realized the melody.

When the dessert was set before me and I slipped my fork into my mouth a very noticeable “Mmmm…” and sigh escaped me. I stopped chewing. Did I always make sounds like this during dessert? I looked around me and noticed two older ladies staring at me. Raising my eyebrows, I grinned at them and with my mouth full of cream filled, covered in dark chocolate, pastry – I handed them my camera and asked them to take a picture of me in my pure dessert bliss.  Cheese!

I was amazed at my melodic metamorphosis in Europe. I had always laughed at my girlfriend who uttered excited squeals and groans when she saw fresh fruit and meat at an outdoor market. Now I was up there with her making, well, embarrassingly orgasmic sounds. And not just during dessert.

Sitting outside for a late night dinner on a warm sultry evening in Florence, my girlfriends and I ordered up a barrage of food. Having trudged kilometers that day in typical tourist fashion we worked up quite the appetites. Soon the food came forth and so did the food and wine melody.

Taking a fork full of ricotta and spinach filled ravioli I closed my eyes and moaned at the fresh taste of basil and garlic. “Mmm…Oh god!  So good!” I looked over at my friend who was also experiencing similar joy as she heartily bit into grilled squid and licked the remnants off her fingertips. We reached over to the fresh bread, drenching pieces into thick olive oil and balsamic vinegar, washing it down with a powerful full bodied Barolo. Sigh. We caught each other’s eye and laughed.

The melody didn’t stop at food or drink. 

European clothing also solicited a carnal response. It’s like putting on your favorite pajamas, jumping into clean warm sheets, and snuggling up with juicy chick lit.

But better.

Because not only do you have THE best in European clothing and accessories at your fingertips, but you’re also pulled into the sinful temptation zone.  The “I can’t afford this…but oh…do I ever WANT IT!” zone.

I was at a high end women’s clothing store in Greece.  I knew I shouldn’t be in there but I was drawn to the European mannequins. Inside, designer clothes hung elegantly on rows of hangers – flowing dresses, soft sweaters, unique designs.  And then I saw it.  A gorgeous grey angora cotton blend sweater. Dare I try it on? 

“Ah god!” I groaned. I ripped it off the hanger and threw it on my body, rubbing the fabric against my face and admiring the perfect fit of it in the mirror. “Damn it!  Why?  Oh…Why?!”  I wanted it so bad, but to part with $200?  That would give me two delicious Italian pasta dinners, with dessert – and Barolo. Decision time.

I pulled out my VISA.

“And can I have that wonderful smelling, soft leather purse in the corner too. Please.”

From shopping debauchery into religious surroundings my melody became somber. After all, one can’t yell or groan “Oh god!” at the Vatican.

As I walked among the whisperers and neck strainers of the Sistine Chapel I looked around me at the work of the greatest Renaissance artists of our time and couldn’t help but stifle a cry, which then turned into an all out sob fest. For the life of me I could not understand why I was wailing like I was. I certainly wasn’t overly religious. But as I sat there on the bench wiping away the last of my mascara I saw the significance of this art created in the late 1400s.  All of a sudden my life was both significant and insignificant.

However, nothing elicits a better melody like a beautiful Spanish, Italian or Greek man. And not just in the way you might think. It’s really simple actually.  Four overtired single women sitting in the Mykonos airport, minding their own business, when all of a sudden the security doors open.  Out struts one dark haired stallion. Grrr…hear me roar!

Since when did security guys wear perfectly tailored dress pants straining against musclebound legs and have upper bodies bursting out of button down dress shirts? And since when did they come out in slow motion?  “Wow!  Wowsers!” We looked at each other and giggled like high school girls.  “Mmm…Mmm” We followed him with our eyes. Until his work colleague met up with him, put his arm around his waist, and whispered in his ear.

Huh. So much for that.

I turned to my friends.

“So – did I tell you about the best cream filled chocolate covered puffs I had the other day? Mmm…del – i- cious!”

Unfolding Tip:

Do what comes naturally.