A Couscous Connection

I woke up to the news that my beloved dog of fourteen years, a sweet and playful Jack Russell, passed away unexpectedly. Attempting to drown my grief in sugar, I made a pile of waffles but still could not stop crying. My mood was so sour that I decided to cancel my plans to go out that night. I picked up my phone and began typing. However, something told me to stop; something told me that I should go out and enjoy the distraction. That evening, I put on a black leather jacket that always made me feel powerful, and took a cab to meet my friend Kate at a party organized by one of our mutual friends from college.

The party was a bit of a drag. The music was too loud for conversation, and yet no one was dancing. I was distractedly snacking on some pretzels while Kate chatted with a girl she knew when He caught my eye. Broad shoulders, short, curly hair, a bright smile, and big, beautiful brown eyes. I recognized him from school; we took econometrics together and bonded over our shared interest in the subject. We took a liking to one another and went out for drinks with a group of friends. At one point I nursed a bit of a crush on him, but it never went anywhere—we simply graduated and lost touch. He gestured for me over so I excused myself from the conversation and went to speak with him.

“Hi Marcel.”

“Hi Selene, how have you been?”

“Good, I just started a new job. How about you?”

“I moved back to the city a couple of months ago to start a job, too. Hi, it’s super loud in here, do you wanna go to the deck and chat?” I nodded and from there our conversation flowed so easily, it was as though no time had passed. Before I knew it, thirty minutes had gone by and Kate came looking for me. She was worried I had left even though we were supposed to go to this club together after the party. Kate was ready to move on, having played the scene…though I was not quite ready to end my conversation with Marcel. But I didn’t want to leave my friend hanging, so I started to say goodnight. Just before I could walk out, he stopped me and asked for my number, saying, “we should hang out sometime.”

The next day, he texted and asked me out. We were supposed to meet at a bar for happy hour on Friday. We were going to check out this wine bar that recently opened, which, according to popular opinion, was incredible. Unfortunately, however, COVID-19 had made its way to the Western hemisphere and people started getting sick earlier in the week. By Wednesday, my office was on mandatory telework and by Thursday a lockdown was in place. Stores were out of toilet paper and sanitizer, and of course bars were closed. A date seemed out of the question, and I was extremely disappointed. All week, I had been looking forward to seeing Marcel again and getting to know him better.

To my surprise, he seemed to feel the same way. My mood lifted when he texted to ask if I would be interested in a virtual date. It was an odd way to start a potential relationship, but we already knew each other and were friends before, so it did not seem to out of place. The question was, of course, what to do to make it special, a date, rather than another video call. And then it hit me: I wanted to share a bit of my culture with him since it is such a big part of who I am, so why not have a virtual cooking lesson?

Since I am half Moroccan, I figured couscous would make a lot of sense. It is a well-known dish and fairly straightforward to make. It turned out that Marcel loves cooking and was excited to learn how to make Moroccan food. I put together a list of ingredients and the recipe to make it easy to follow along. At exactly 6 pm, I got a video from Marcel who remarked on how beautiful my earrings were. I thanked him and told him that I found them at a shop in Fez while I was studying abroad in Casablanca junior year. I learned that he was studying in Paris at the same time, where he developed an appreciation for wine.

When we started cooking, my apartment filled with the aromas of my childhood: olive oil, turmeric, raisins and caramelized onions. I told Marcel about how these scents took me back to my grandmother’s kitchen, where we would cook together, and he told me about how his grandfather used to take him on little expeditions because he was a budding naturalist. Marcel was grateful to have this window into not only another culture, but also into my upbringing, and I was happy to learn more about his childhood. Once we were done cooking, we both went to get our selection of wine.

“Please don’t judge me,” I said, knowing he had learned about wines and might not be impressed with the caliber of what I bought, “I got a merlot from the grocery store. It’s my favorite type of wine.”

“Are you kidding? I also have a glass of merlot! It’s an excellent grape. And there is nothing wrong with grocery store wine. You know what, maybe for our next date I could teach you a little bit about wine if you’d like. I hear there are some services now that will deliver a selection to your apartment so you don’t even need to go out.”

Next date? Wine? You don’t have to tell me twice. “I’d love that.”

“Awesome. Well, cheers to new beginnings and second dates.”