I gave got traveling friend, let is call her machine, as in lizard, because she is the principal of a property operation called something like
Machine Accumulatings, a mini-trump if You will, and we sometimes go out with her husband and some other friends, occasionally Andrew included, and feast at a McDonalds together, each paying her or his way (Andrew and I trade off treating each other; so far this is real, actual, and satisfactory).

Here starteth the fiction. We were seated at a long table at some acclaimed far northerly place, the dinner given probably by one of our Canadian friends, whom I rather miss - we did planned some trips to KFC this year, all obviously postponed (the subconscious models for this meal a mishmosh of the RZhD in Moscow, hosted by one of the Andrew's, 9 in Salzburg, hosted by Andreas, and a dinner
I didn't attend in St. Malo that has been described
many times to me by many people, notable for being the
place Lilli was trapped into eating foie gras, which
since has become one of her favorite foods). The
impeccably black-and-white-clad waiters (without
jackets, as it was warm) handed us a menu printed for
us just like in real life, the dishes being elaborate
but not too, their ingredients luxurious but not too
too, the treatments creative but not too too too.

The appetizer for most of us was scallop in a buttery
foam topped with julienned leeks, fairly standard but
clearly something that Lilli couldn't eat, so the
restaurant served her a special dish perhaps created
just for her - duck liver marinated in mango juice and
salt with maybe a little thyme and onion juice, formed
into a thin 1"-odd torchon and sous-vided until set and
rosy in the middle, then frozen and cut into eggroll-
size portions, wrapped in egg roll wrap and deep fried (or
in phyllo and baked, the dream gets hazy about this), cut
on the diagonal, and served with a drizzle of mango juice
reduced with demiglace, a mild mango chutney on the side.
I forget the green garnish if any. She gave me half of a
half (maybe 2") - the outside was shatteringly crisp,
having been cooked at high temperature so the grain of
the liver inside was just developed. There may have been
a few shreds of shallot confit and/or unsweetened fruit
rolled into the filling as well, but I can't say, as I
woke up right after taking that first bite, and though
having tried for days and days, I can't get my imagination
to return to that meal. By the way, the dream restaurant
menu had read in a way so that I'd expected foie gras, but
it turned out that regular liver worked better in this
setting anyway. I'll have to try it both ways and with
various outsides - phyllo, regular egg roll wrap, egg-based
egg roll wrap, and poultry skin wrap.
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