Each meal opens with a fluffy rosemary flatbread, wafting heat.
Whichever way you go, it's more feast than famine, as the meal opens with a table-covering Lebanese spread of puffy, freshly baked flatbreads, pickles and raw vegetables, presented in a manageable miniature form, including cherry tomatoes, baby gems and small Lebanese cucumbers.
Just scan the barcode on your prepared meal, open up the oven and pop it in then hit a few buttons as per the instructions to heat it up and keep track of it on your cellphone.
Thus, the festive meal opens with a centuries-old custom of dipping apple slices into honey, followed by dipping challah into honey (rather than into salt, as is done with bread the rest of the year).
No longer simply the domain of canned corn and peanut butter, food banks are preparing ready-to-eat meals, opening their own farms and partnering with institutions as varied as local supermarkets and state prisons to help gather and process food.
Sharing meals opens this kind of dialogue.
After the meal, they opened their fortune cookies.
Moved by the meal, Farrington opened up Google Translate to communicate with the women, and she slowly gleaned that they were interested in selling their food.
Any request I made was carried out instantly, gracefully and without any pomposity - no Jeeves nonsense, but rather speed and a smile, from Richard, my personal pool attendant, to Orrin my butler, who served the meals and opened the Champagne.
Instead, they welcomed him to our meals, and opened up our apartment to him at any time, and soon it was there he went between classes and on his days off, always leaving behind some vestige of himself: a nearly finished pack of cigarettes, a newspaper, a piece of mail he had not bothered to open, a sweater he had taken off and forgotten in the course of his stay.
