Before that, I had to settle accounts with another old dream of mine. I wanted to pursue it, this long-standing dream that had struck me off and on during life, one inspired by how passionate Najaa and I used to be about restaurants around the world. (All we needed to do was mention them, and we’d end up chatting about them for hours without noticing the time pass. We’d recall all the little details, and recall remembering them – usually while sitting in a restaurant. We had a special language, and our own private rituals, for talking about restaurants and food).
I finally realised this little dream.
At the end of September 2011, I was on the terrace of a restaurant in Paris, on the corner of a street in the 14th arrondissement, by the Alésia metro station. I ordered something simple: sh
