Share a Moment—Share a Meal

As a writer, I spend a lot of my time contemplating and practicing the power of words. I marvel at the simple integrity of a “thank you”; I celebrate the magnanimity of “you’re welcome.”

Words have always been the ultimate gesture to me.

But a recent trip to New Orleans has opened my eyes to what is perhaps an even greater gesture—not the words that come out of our mouths, but rather the food we put in them. The home-cooked meal, the neighborhood BBQ, the entrée chosen on a first date…each of these demonstrate how we so often use food as a gesture of love, kindness, and good faith.

It’s a provocative name, isn’t it? Not many storefronts make use of the interrogative mood on their awnings—especially in phrasing that’s grammatically ambiguous. Since I first discovered What Crêpe? (because we all discover such lovely spaces—to say we merely find them is to downplay that sense of wonder and accomplishment at having become familiar with the novel or little-known), I’ve given myself over to the intrigue of its name. I’ve allowed myself to wonder what it could possibly mean, and I believe that wondering has provided me the answer.