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The aftermath of such events–when diners are done and pant buttons undone–are just as chaotically beautiful: crumpled napkins, discarded pizza crusts, sugo-stained white tablecloths (our team may single-handedly fund the bleach market in this country). An upturned sugar sachet has created a grainy dusting on one end of the table, while a few stray olive pits have rolled off the other side onto the floor. A crust of bread–the slice was too big for the required scarpetta–lies abandoned. Wet circles pay remembrance to the wine glasses that the aforementioned flirty waiter just bussed.
This chaos is a fleeting imprint, a collaborative artwork, of the food that was eaten, but also the time that was had, soon to be washed away and replaced with a new canvas–polished silverware and a fresh, crisp, hopefully bleached tablecloth. A chaotic table doesn’t necessarily have to come from a celebratory event or large group, however: as long as time was taken to sit and enjoy a meal, the chaos of the table can speak for itself. So you know you’ve had a good meal (and a helluva time) when your table, if only for a few minutes, looks like this: