How to talk to strangers (and turn them into friends)
This week, poet and artist Frieda Hughes has an unforgettable meal with people she met on screen
LEFTOVERS
More food in a doggy bag for each meal I can’t finish,
In the company of people I’ve only ever met on Zoom.
They had travelled half the miles of the globe to attend
Meetings at mealtimes for half the days of the week
As strangers in a dining room. Untangling ourselves
Over salmon mousse, soup of the day, farmhouse pate
And stuffed mushrooms, we bonded over grilled steak
And chicken supreme, and explored possibilities
Over pumpkin risotto and venison Scotch eggs
As we passed the salt. At home, the tin foil packages
Multiplied unidentified on the shelves in my fridge,
So that every snack was a voyage of discovery.
I have no shame in taking what I’ve paid for
And would like to eat again; it’s a welcome reminder
Of a well-done meal and the women who were here,
If only by means of the belly pork slice and beef croquette
That I’ve re-eaten for breakfast now they’ve gone.
Sometimes I open a silver foil package to find
That I’ve forgotten which restaurant it came from,
And sometimes I share it with dogs.