We ate thin strips of veal which had been dipped in an artful mixture of grated parmigiano and crumbs, with one of the bachelor's favorite tricks to accompany it: buttered thin noodles gratinés with extra-thin and almond-brown toasted noodles on top. There was a green salad.
The night was full of stars, and so seemed my eager host's brown eyes … and the whole thing was ghastly for two reasons: he had forgotten to take the weather into his menu-planning, so that we were faced with a rich, hot, basically heavy meal on one of the worst summer nights in local history, and I was at the queasiest possible moment of being pregnant.
Of course, the main mistake was in his trying to entertain a woman in that condition as if she were still seduceable and/or he still a bachelor: we had already been married several months.
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