Feasting with Friends

What’s left of the profiteroles, meringues and double crème and mousse au chocolat, shared by all at the Café du Soleil.

It is Christmas Eve but the feasting within circles of friendship, began on Saturday. My Syrian friend arrived from Paris Friday night and we spent Saturday evening with our Indian friends, a reunion as well as a meal laden with all our favourite Indian dishes (especially the yoghurt coated white lentil balls).
Not that long ago we all lived on the same floor of an apartment building with lots of shared meals, cups of teas and conversations in the early evening. There were movies and events that one or the other were participating in and the others in attendance for encouragement.
We entertained each other guests with our different cuisines. Did we ever take it for granted when we could just pop up and down the hall to say hi? I doubt it, but I also miss it, which made that evening even more special for us all to be together.
Then on Sunday, there was a Syrian feast chez moi and my house mates. I am used to these meals my friend prepares, but for my housemates it was rare. Two hours after the dishes had only small amounts of tabuli, cheese pies, and scraps of fish almost too little to even interest the cat, we were still at the table, talking about everything from art, to literature, from poison to the meaning of life. Age wise we represented four different decades of life lending yet another dimension.
Sunday night found us at the Café du Soleil with two of my Syrian friend’s friends, whom I also know and care about. How can anyone who has used the Café du Soleil as a treat, come back to Geneva without stopping there? The answer for us is no way.
Despite or maybe because of ordering one less portion of fondue than mouths to eat it, we decided on dessert.
But which one? The perfect solution was to order the three favourites and all share. Now that’s having your cake, or maybe your profiteroles, mouse and meringues and eating them too. Here too the conversation was lively in three languages: English French and Arabic.
Christmas Eve will arrive in just a short time. We are having people in. The shrimp and smoked salmon are ready. The champagne is on ice.
Tomorrow we still aren’t sure of the headcount but the mix of nationalities will cut a swarth across the planet: American, Swiss, English, Turk, Syrian and who knows what else. The turkey, the one not used at Thanksgiving is almost thawed. The Bell’s seasoning mixed that my daughter brought when she visited last month, will get used. We’ll eat in the winter garden with the carved chess pieces watching…
It has been a long time since I have had a traditional Christmas dinner and even longer since I have had one in a place I live. And that is another gift, one most precious.