THE NORTH RIDING PROJECT

Beneath the candelabra spread the monotonous opulence of buffets at big balls: coralline lobsters boiled alive, waxy chaud-froids of veal, steelytinted fish immersed in sauce, turkeys gilded by the ovens’ heat, rosy foie gras under gelatin armor, boned woodcock reclining on amber toast decorated with their own chopped insides, and a dozen other cruel, colored delights.

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Huge blond babas, Mont Blancs snowy with whipped cream, cakes speckled with white almonds and green pistachio nuts, hillocks of choolate-covered pastry, brown and rich as the topsoil of the Catanian plain from which, in fact, through many a twist and turn they had come, pink ices, champagne ices, coffee ices, all parfaits, which fell apart with a squelch as the knife cleft them, melody in major of crystallized cherries, acid notes of yellow pineapple, and those cakes called “triumphs of gluttony” filled with green pistachio paste, and shameless “virgins’ cakes” shaped like breasts.

di Lampedusa/Leopard, 2024