Delectable

“Tonight, we’re cooking something really special.” Millie smiles broadly. “Pork loin stuffed with pesto and prosciutto. Doesn’t that sound just wonderful?”

I lay in bed after a day shift, watching the latest episode of Delectable. My eyelids droop as I stare at the screen, the bright light giving me a headache. My chief resident—Doctor Nowak who is constantly prying into why I’m so tired and slow—was especially challenging today. Thank God I found Millie when I did. Otherwise, residency would have driven me off the deep end.

A white paper package tied in butcher’s string appears on the kitchen island next to the other ingredients. I blink and the package is now in her hands. Winking, she says, “You’re going to want to use the good pork loin for this. Ethically sourced, of course.”

“Good pork loin?” I repeat, brows scrunching together. There must be a decent butcher shop in Grand Rapids. “We’ll find some, right, Gertrude?” I say, giving her a scritch behind the ears. She snuggles closer into my side.

“When I was in my 20s, I had no idea who I was or what I wanted to do with my life.” Millie unwraps the pork loin. Pink with just the thinnest fissures of marbling running through it like cracks in a porcelain vase. Millie grabs a knife and continues, “I was simply lost.” Looking into the camera, her face falls. Lips pursed, her forehead creases in concern. Posture curves as she holds the knife to her chest—hand pressing against the flat edge. “Anxious. Depressed.”

Silence.

She stares through the camera, gaze meeting mine and her eyes watering as she refuses to blink. The knife gleams as she raises it over her head and stabs it into the pork loin.

“I know what it’s like to feel alone. To hurt.”

My vision blurs and I look up from the screen—staring at the darkness of my bedroom. Rubbing my eyes, I tune back into Millie who is making quick work of slicing the pork loin lengthwise.

Giving it a tiny pat with her hand, Millie cuts off a piece. “Food became my love language. And there’s nothing more—” she grins, eyes sparkling “—well, delectable than raw meat.”

Unease slithers down my spine. I blink, wondering if I heard her correctly.

“You know what I always say…” Millie presses the piece between her lips and sighs. “Fresh is bes—”

“—Doesn’t that smell incredible? Crushing up the basil leaves with the pestle and pine nuts and olive oil. Really brings out those earthy aromas.”

The video skips to Millie making a pesto in her mortar. She’s calm again, face no longer screwed up with dread. I sit up, finger gliding across the trackpad to frantically replay the last minute of the video.

Read Delectable here.