I met The Roast on Tinder.

Of course, it all started with a quip. After a short hiatus I was back on Tinder and this time I decided to let loose in messaging. He was good looking (but then, they all think they are. You’ve got to have some mojo to put your picture up on Tinder). That wasn’t it though, it never is with me. He was a chef and knew how rock and roll in the kitchen. It became a great pleasure for me to hear what he had been cooking. Like any good food porn it’s all in the details…

Seared pork belly: skin side down to render the fat and crisp the skin (with a flour and pho paste coating). Flipped then braised in a red wine and white miso liquid for five hours. Cooled overnight then pressed the next day; gently reheated in the wine/miso reduction and rested on it’s side with a touch of brown sugar. Kissed with lemon juice and eaten with quail eggs and dry toast.

I couldn’t resist.
Also, he sounded just like Ed Burns, like an old school tough guy he had old fashioned ways, he’d had his fair share of fist fights, he called me “honey, sweetheart, cutie pie,” he yearned to be understood. This felt unfamiliar and known at the same time. I felt like a woman in his company and he was most definitely a man’s man. There was something extra though which I couldn’t place. A vulnerability or loneliness perhaps. Or had I invented that? I could see all of his soft spots. Not because he showed them to me, he had developed a great way of shielding himself and it was beautiful to watch. Reassuring even.

We spent hours on the phone. We were throwing ourselves head first into the discovery process and each time I wanted to pull back he gently reminded me that all we were doing was having a good time. Hell, I hadn’t even met him yet so what was there to worry about? He was like N. Never too much, always giving me a long lead.

Meeting you is like being alone in the woods and discovering one of your own species for the first time. I just want to look at your face and sniff your butt.

And it was. TR was complex, special, a little scary. Struggling to contextualize himself in the world he had fought hard but he was all heart. I wanted to pat his strong back and watch him run in the paddock. I wanted him to lay his head in my lap, I wanted something I didn’t know the name of and I wondered if it could be called friendship. I was going to find out soon enough.

 

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