by Molly Alessandra Cooper
Gooey camembert sticks to your lips as you devour another cheese-smothered piece of bread and crumbs land in your lap as you bite into the crusty bread. Your teeth hit the stone of the fat, salty green olives that leave you desperate for a glass of water. The charred halloumi from the just-barbecued skewer burns your lips as you hungrily dig your teeth in. You reach greedily for another salsa-covered nacho, feeling the tangy heat of the jalapeno you didn’t notice before.
Masala sauce sticks to the end of your hair as you lean over the table to reach for more of your favourite dish. You feel the oil of the pay-by-the-slice pizza on your fingertips as you stand swaying in time with friends at the end of the night. Spaghetti slaps and stains your cheeks as you slurp up rich bolognese. Garlicky creamed spinach threatens to hang around in the gaps between your teeth. Liquid from your overfilled, badly wrapped burrito leaks onto your hands as you desperately try to grab another napkin without dropping it. Standing on the windy coast, salt and vinegar sting your hands as you dive into the bottom of the paper chip wrapper. Gravy burns your mouth and Yorkshire puddings sit heavy in your stomach as you tuck into the roast which is always served two hours later than planned.
Sticky ice cream drips down your fingers as it melts in the summer sun. The crumbs of a croissant sit in the palm of your hand on a lazy Sunday morning. Crisps scratch a sore throat and Milky Bar buttons stick in the roof of your mouth. Sugar coats your lips, jam drops to the floor as you bite into a plump doughnut. Golden Syrup-y sauce drips down your chin as you eat more than your share of a sticky toffee pudding after a pub lunch. You lick icing off your fingers after peeling an iced bun out of the paper bag it’s got stuck to.
This is comfort. We’ll always come back for more of this.