Word Count: 385
Very few who’d enjoyed his liver and onions would have guessed it was human. They noticed the delicate flavor, the perfect texture, not mushy nor tough as liver is often delivered from kitchen to plate in the mid-scale restaurant or unfortunately at your own mother’s table.
He made the most fantastic pot roast and only a few friends knew the pleasure of his filet mignon. Wrapped in bacon, with a truffle topping, served with cheese-roasted potatoes and fresh spinach souffle.
Many tried to find where he purchased such exquisite cuts of meat but he remained vague. Odd, because he would give explicit instructions on ingredients, even wrote down recipes and handed them out freely to those who asked. It never came out quite as good as his, no matter how strictly one stuck to the recipe, so they guessed that the secret had surely to be prime meat from a butcher. And of course, we know why he was reluctant to share.
One of his close friends was insistent on finding out the secret despite being a frequent participant at these feasts. He went so far as to inquire at the local butcher shops if his friend was indeed a regular customer there. He thought he had found the answer when one did claim to be the supplier but it turned out that he made a false claim for he too had heard of the fabulous dinners served.
This friend begged, he whined, he cajoled and he flattered the chef in his attempts to discover the secret, whether it be the source of the meat or the way it was prepared. He suspected there perhaps was a marinade, a tenderization process of sorts that the man refused to reveal.
He got nowhere. His host was gracious but firm. And, extremely upset when he found his friend inspecting the inside of his refrigerator and freezer.
I’m disappointed, he said. I can’t imagine why you simply don’t enjoy the fine dining I offer and leave it at that.
The man apologized profusely, sincerely ashamed but more, fearful that he would never be invited back.
Oh no, said the chef, do not be concerned. You will be back for dinner very soon. He eyed the man closely and smiled. Perhaps a nice chateaubriand, I would think.
Worthy of Hannibal Lecter. The Man Who Came for Dinner (as dinner)? Marvelous.
Thanks, Marcus! Someone (was it you?) just recently mentioned reading “Silence of The Lambs” and this probably is what inspired the story. Recall of the wonderful Sir Anthony Hopkins in the movie. Never read the book but I did read Harris’ “Hannibal” a few years after that.