Diners 滿肚 | 2018 | Food and dialogue 食物、對話

A steak in the size of two palms almost exceeded the boundary of the plate. Even a slight slitting on the surface of the steak sounded, the collision between porcelain and metal. Upon the sauce flowed out from the cut, the translucent crimson dimmed like a shy face turning away. But the colour came alive again; the egg yolk yellow of the ceiling lamps shined on the dining table through the red wine glass. The food and the guests had already been immersed in autumn, the shadows of maple leaves.

Let’s dine. You will be my guest, and we will share a meal in your house.

The words are yet to be said, the roads are yet to be walked. The air in streets and paths, are all absorbed in branched conduct, a careful shell, an incorporeal account. There exists no spirit to connect the big com- munities, no force to support small families. The pro- letariat with empowered greed, dines with exquisite food and wine in the age of fragments? The big title is but a large patchwork? Mundane wisdom and aura are exuded while we feed ourselves?

雙掌大的肉排幾近超出碟的邊界,刀鋒只須在肉排面柔柔一 拖,已響起瓦與金屬輕輕折磨的聲音。醬汁從肉排裂口流 瀉,中間透紅的血色旋即變得深沉,像羞澀的臉龐轉過臉。 然而他的深沉轉眼又活,天花燈的雞蛋黃穿過了紅酒杯映照 了餐桌。秋意早籠罩食材與食客的空氣,是楓葉的影。