Light lunch

Rosemary Brown sat staring at the menu while the others talked
amongst themselves. The menu was beige with a deep red border, good
quality paper, not laminated but thick and grainy to the touch. Resting
her arms on the table she held the menu out in front of her like a
book. It was divided into sections, starters at the top, salads
underneath, burgers, ribs and steaks on the opposite page with deserts
underneath them. Salads came in both starter and main course sizes. All
dishes had calorific and fat content printed in neat black type at the
end of each dish description.

As Rosemary read through each description for the second time she found
herself drawn to the chicken, bacon and avocado salad with Roquefort
dressing. The others had laid down their menus and were discussing the
morning's shopping. Rosemary's single plastic bag rested against her
ankle, she leant down and put her hand inside, feeling the soft fabric
with her fingers. Sitting back up she sipped her iced water and moved
her attention on to burgers, ribs and steaks. The slice of lemon in her
drink bumped up against her lip. Hickory smoked burger in bun with
fries contained one thousand more calories than the chicken, bacon and
avocado salad with Roquefort dressing. Lean burger, without a bun but
with a choice of baked potato or fries had the same calorific and fat
content as the salad but only if you didn't count the fries. Counting
the fries gave it 10 more grams of fat than the chicken, bacon and
avocado salad with Roquefort dressing. Rosemary did not like baked
potatoes. The skin stuck in her teeth and everyone said that the skin
was the best bit and that there was no point eating a baked potato if
you didn't eat the skin. Ribs covered in a thick, sticky sauce had so
many grams of fat in them that she couldn't bear even to think about
them.

The conversation around the table was faltering. Her friend Jane asked
her, in a too bright voice, what she was having. Rosemary cleared her
throat to speak. Jane interrupted,
'I'm having the mixed leaves salad, main course size, with the dressing
on the side and one wholegrain roll, no butter.'
She grinned with a missionary like zeal that sent Rosemary straight to
the breadbasket. Frances, a slim woman with neat hair, announced that
she would be having a hickory-smoked burger with fries. No one replied.
Rosemary felt a red flush start in her chest. The others resumed their
faltering conversation.

The neat black type gave out its relentless message - salad leaves
devoid of dressing were the only truly low fat food. Rosemary resumed
her task. Chicken, bacon and avocado salad with Roquefort dressing was
out, too much fat. Ribs - out. Lean burger - out (she didn't like baked
potatoes). Picking up a piece of wholegrain bread she nibbled on it and
let it sit in her mouth, softening. She could have what Jane was
having, main course salad with dressing on the side. On the
side&;#8230;. The idea being that you controlled the amount of
dressing that went on the salad, so that you didn't have to go without,
but equally you did not have to eat fat drenched salad leaves. The
conversation around the table had now stopped. The waiter was
collecting all the menus. She was still holding on to hers. The waiter
moved to her side and bent forward as if expecting to hear something.
The shopping bag was weighing heavily on her foot. She kicked it aside.
Looking into the waiter's eyes she took a deep breath and opened her
mouth to speak,
'Barbecue burger in a bun with fries on the side.'

There was complete silence as the waiter moved away. Rosemary took a
drink of iced water. Her friend Jane patted her limply on the knee and
turned aside to start a conversation with Frances. Fries on the side.
She could feel the red flush start up again. Fries on the side.
Something was not quite right. She hadn't meant to order fries, it was
fries she didn't mean to have. Dressing. It was dressing on the side.
She had ordered the wrong lunch. She burst into a loud tattered laugh.
Jane turned her head and Rosemary smiled,
'Just laughing aloud. It's nothing.'
Jane gave her another limp pat on the knee. Rosemary was beginning to
realise that she didn't like her friend Jane very much.

Turning to the woman on her left she asked her, in an effort at casual
enquiry, what she had ordered.
'Spinach and bacon salad, but I've asked for grilled turkey pieces
instead of the bacon and a simple oil and vinegar dressing on the side.
Turkey is so much lower in fat than bacon and I find it so delicious
don't you?'
Rosemary nodded in mute agreement, knowing that the only time she
voluntarily ate turkey was at Christmas.
'I'm having mixed leaf salad, main course size, dressing on the
side.'
Rosemary and her companion sat stiffly in silence. They both knew this
not to be true but both whole heartedly wished it was. Rosemary rescued
the moment by offering to pour her companion some water. Watching the
ice fall into the glass she hoped the waiter would arrive soon. She
wasn't hungry but had nothing more to say to anyone and had finished
the breadbasket.

She wouldn't eat the chips; that was why they were on the side, she
could choose to leave them. Jane would probably have some anyway and
she would leave the rest. This decision lightened her mood. The burger
alone would be enough, the chips she could do without. She smiled at no
one in particular and noticed the waiter advancing, arms dripping with
plates of green salad. Five identical plates of bare salad were placed
in front of their owners, Frances and herself remaining foodless. The
others sat politely waiting. Jane picked at a piece of tomato. The
waiter was on his way back. Rosemary could smell the meat before it
arrived and felt a sharp cramp in her stomach as she inhaled. She had
not eaten a burger in public for years. And fries&;#8230; fries she
only dreamed about.

The waiter placed a large, sauce smothered plate in front of her.
Rosemary picked up her knife and fork and started to eat. The meat was
pink in the middle, the way she liked it best. From the first mouthful
she was glad she had made this mistake. The sauce was just the right
mix of heat and sugary sweetness, the meat smoky and running with
juice. She had abandoned her cutlery after the second forkful and each
bite sent hot juices running down her chin. Her fingers dripped sauce
and sesame seeds stuck to her lips. With half the burger finished she
set the remaining half down and reached for her water, noticing the
rest of the group for the first time as she did so. They had all
finished and were, without exception, watching Rosemary eat. Rosemary
smiled, a sickly, sauce covered grin. They continued to watch. She was
starting to feel a little self-conscious and suddenly remembered the
fries. Raising her plate she offered her fires to her companions. Jane
took a handful without a word, nobody else moved. Rosemary turned her
attention the rest of her burger.

With the burger now gone the fries were more visible. Sitting on the
plate without accompaniment they looked uncomfortable. Having offered
them round several times and received tense 'no thank you's in reply
she was beginning to realise that she was alone with them. She could
push the plate into the middle of the table, cover them with a napkin
or even ask the waiter to remove them. While Rosemary was running
through all her options she knew, with great certainty, what she was
going to do. She would eat the fries. All of them. The others had
finished some time ago and were still completely silent. They had
watched Rosemary eat her burger and now seemed to be waiting to see
what she would do next. After eating her burger so publicly Rosemary
was beginning to enjoy herself. Reaching for the first chip, fries made
them sound so much more exotic but chips was what they were, she dipped
it in ketchup and lifted it to her mouth. As she took the first bite
she watched them watching her. After the first, she took another, then
the next chip and the next. Each one meticulously covered in ketchup
and eaten with her fingers. She counted them as she ate - twenty four
exactly.

The waiter edged closer as she ate and by the time she had finished was
at her elbow reaching for her plate. Still no one spoke. Still they
watched her. She could think of nothing to say to any of them and so
summoned the waiter.
'Desert menu please.'
As she said this Rosemary didn't look at the waiter but at her
companions, they didn't flinch. The menu arrived and this time she
found ordering much easier.
'Chocolate mud pie&;#8230;&;#8230;with vanilla ice cream on the
side.'
They all waited together, silently. The mud pie came, sitting heavily
on a biscuit base, the vanilla ice cream glistening by its side.
Rosemary ate the pie slowly, she had come this far, she wanted to
remember what it tasted like. Every corner of her mouth had experienced
this mud pie, the chocolate coated the back of her throat and only
crumbs remained on the plate. She asked for the bill. The waiter
brought it on a plate with seven foil wrapped chocolates, one for each
of them. She took time to thank him properly and handed him her card.
Nobody moved. The bill was reasonable and she left a generous tip. It
was time to leave. Rosemary put on her coat and picked up her shopping,
opening her handbag she tipped all seven foiled chocolates into it and
walked towards the door.