There's a passage in Adam Gopnik's From Paris to the Moon where he talks about chicken. When I lived in Paris, I recreated his experience of - In the morning, selecting and ordering a chicken. Mid-day, checking in on that chicken as it started to roast. Late afternoon picking it up and brining it home to dine.
This delayed gratification was easy in France. At home, not so easy.
So tomorrow, I'm going to buy a delicious baked good in the morning, let it sit on my counter all day, and eat it in the late afternoon.
I will be okay to only look at the piece of cake.
I will remember that it is not a matter of restraint, but rather it is the joy of anticipation.
Even if the cake's not all that great. The wait was everything.
