Coconut Friands and Blue Eyes

 

I absolutely love this recipe for French Fridays with Dorie-Coconut Friands. Simple, sweet and so easy to make. They catch you off guard too, unassuming little bites, with their little brown edges. Nothing fancy, no chocolate, no strawberries, no special sauce. But oh so delicious. Simple is good. Wouldn't it be wonderful if life were so simple? Wouldn't it be wonderful if life were as straight forward and as unassuming as these Coconut Friands? I'm suffering from a little melancholia today.

I get a quarterly magazine from the college I attended. I usually glance through it, check out the back of the magazine for updates by class year and then put it in the recycle bin. But there it was, his name, under the obituary listing. I had forgotten about him, mostly. I say mostly because any time I saw a picture of Paul Newman, there he was. No not Paul Newman, but him, the one from college. The same deep blue eyes, the lips pursed, verging on a smile, picture Paul-25 something, but with black curly hair -that was him-blue eyes. I met him at a poker game, he wasn't supposed to be there, and he should have been gone. I spotted blue eyes when I walked into my date's apartment. Blue eyes was sitting by the window, smoking, just gazing out the window, and not facing my direction. I was running late and when I came rushing into the apartment I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the room still filled with my date's poker buddies. I was at a loss for words, I said something silly that made everyone laugh, I don't remember what it was, but everyone laughed, except him-blue eyes. He turned my way, looked straight into my eyes with those deep crystal blue eyes, pursed those lips and gave me just the faintest smile. Honestly, it was like the movies, I was frozen, I couldn't move, and I was melting inside, I felt sure I would melt into a hot mess on the floor. I could feel the flush in my face and I was sure he could see it, I was sure everyone could see it. I somehow clumsily removed myself from the area and went into the living room. Sitting there on the couch, I kept thinking what just happened, who was that, why did he look at me that way; no one had ever looked at me that way. And then, there he was, sitting beside me on the couch, giving me advice on my love life. Really, he didn't know me, he just sat down next to me, his leg brushing ever so slightly against mine, I let out a little gasp (the first of many to come) and here he was telling me I should leave this boy because he was no good, he would only hurt me. Be careful he whispered. I was shaking, what was happening, who is this person and who does he think he is giving me advice? I felt like I could barely breathe, then I got that look again and just as fast as he sat down he walked away ,and I thought ,there he goes - out of my life . I heard him say his good byes to his poker buddies. I was confused and delirious; I still didn't know what was happening. I felt like someone had just given me some crazy drug. "See ya Ed ", my date yelled. Ed that was his name. He was older but I didn't know how much older-I was still lost in those eyes, those lips and that brief touch.

I didn't go out for pizza that night and a few days later I stopped seeing the boy-not because of Ed. I knew the relationship was going nowhere. Ed didn't have to tell me. And then a few weeks later, the sweetest thing happened, Ed called. He heard I wasn't seeing the boy anymore and wondered if I wanted to go to a movie-my heart was pounding, racing, I could feel that flush and light headedness again. I was trying to be cool but I'm sure I wasn't. I could never be cool around Ed, he was unsettling. We dated all summer, he was older, by almost 11 years-I was 17, well 17 1/2 and he was 28. Ed wasn't something I planned on -that relationship was one I never expected. I was an art major, young naive; he was a business major, older, worldly. Corny, right? Not for me-he was my first love at college (sorry J-you are my true love). And he took me under his wing, I think I was his "project", make the young naive small town girl into a woman of the world. Wasn't going to happen-oh I thought it would-I thought I was in love. I said it, he said it too. But he was saying it to several other girls-I didn't find that out until months later. And then it was the end of the summer, kisses and tears and promises that the time would go by quickly and it would be January and we would be together again. (I applied to college at the last minute and couldn't get into the fall semester so I started in the summer, had to skip the fall, and then would go back in January with everyone else) He called, infrequently, that should have been the first clue, but I was still lost in those eyes. And then it was January, by then I had resigned myself -the relationship was over, I wouldn't see him when I started back to school. I checked into the dorm. My roommate was all settled in and after she introduced herself she asked "Who is this Ed guy?", he's left at least a dozen messages for you. I was dizzy, light headed, confused. What did you say? Ed had called for me? And then someone down the hall was yelling that there was a call for me-Ed. We went out that night, I believed all the excuses he was feeding me about why he ignored me from September through December. I didn't care; I was drowning in those eyes. And that smile, there it was again. He took me back to the dorm and said he would call the next day. The next day came and no call, then the second and third day, still no call. Of course, I rationalized things, everyone was busy with registration and catching up with old friends, he said he would call and he would, I just needed to not be so, well, so dam needy. And then on the fourth day I was coming out of the student union and literally collided with him. He looked me straight in the eyes, pursed those lips and kept on walking-not a word, not a nod, nothing. I stood there frozen again by that look. What did I do wrong, what just happened and why ? I cut classes that afternoon, ran back to the dorm and spent the afternoon and all night crying and thinking - what did I do wrong. It wasn't until months later that I could see I had been the victim of a master manipulator. I heard the stories from other "projects’, same story, same pattern, same lies. I hated him for a while, but I could never shake those eyes and that look, that smile. And now he is gone. Good bye sweet blue eyes.

Hello sweet little friand. Head over to French Fridays with Dorie to see what the rest of the group did with this recipe. It's lovely just the way it is, just like me.