Hello and welcome, I’m Renée Valentina and this is Musing Interruptus. A podcast meant for sharing thoughts, stories, enjoying idiomatic phrases and words in general. You can read along; the transcription is in the description of this episode. The idiomatic expressions are in italics. Try to get the meaning from the context and then look them up to see if you were right. If you like it, share it, but more importantly, continue the conversation. Today, It Was Stolen.
Disclaimer: I, Renée Valentina, know stealing is wrong, don’t steal from people, it is not only morally reprehensible it is illegal. My stories are fiction. That said… 
I stole it for you. I stole this story for you, today. This happened, and it's not mine, but I’d like to think that since I partially inspired the deed, I can tell the story, so, it is partially stolen. 
She made gazpacho for the first time. She’s like that. She isn’t afraid to try recipes out when having people over. Some might say, stick to your best work when you host, others, the brave, like herself, will try out something new. 
I like people who take the time to design their lives, surroundings, and have hobbies and passions. You feel that when you meet people. All you have to do is start with a corner in your life and keep going. Before you know it, you’ve carved and designed a life for yourself on your own terms. It takes me a while to get things the way I like them. The balance between colors, smells, textures, sounds. We’ve discussed this before. Back to her, what I like about her is that she creates experiences for herself, her family and her guests. I was one such guest in her home. I was commissioned with dessert. As soon as I bought the cake I regretted it,  I would have loved to make her my tarte tatin. Especially after all the wonders that night had in store for us. Next time. 
I loved everything, the way she painted just one wall with lines and curves, like a plant reaching out from her atrium, just outside of the dining room. The light fixtures were awesome pet-like creatures coming out of the ceiling and her kitchen was designed to perfectly accommodate her culinary whims and fancies. Like clockwork, everything was ready. Her husband had paired each dish with wine, cheese, nuts, and music. The music was also perfect. I’m big on music, so I noticed. We sat down and ambrosia fell from the heavens, and as if that weren’t wonderful enough, story time began. This is also one of my favorite activities, scratch that, it is a way of life. So when the story began, I just let my head tilt to the left and locked in. 
It all started with a diagnosis and a list of foods she was no longer allowed to eat. Imagine a person passionate about foods, smells, tastes and having them limited. Well, garlic is on the list of forbidden elements. Forbidden fruits are delicious, stolen Allium sativum, hmmm… What is it? Is it a fruit? Is it a vegetable? An herb? Medicine? Does a stolen clove of garlic alter the taste of the gazpacho? It surely altered something. She told us how she secretly took just one clove from an undisclosed location. Had it been perfectly selected or did she have to blindly pick through the heads of garlic and snap-off a clove? Continue reading

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