Quelques jours apr\u00e8s mon retour du fameux Salon du livre de Montr\u00e9al, je ne pouvais vider ma t\u00eate de tous ces lecteurs intentionn\u00e9s qui ont pris la peine d\u2019arr\u00eater \u00e0 ma table pour un brin de jasette, de multiples compliments et une d\u00e9dicace personnalis\u00e9e \u00e0 chacun.<\/p>\n
Pour un moment, je me croyais dans un de mes premiers restos \u00e0 accueillir chaque client avec mon sourire fendu jusqu\u2019aux oreilles. Oui, oui! J\u2019ai d\u2019ailleurs \u00e9t\u00e9 enchant\u00e9e de rencontrer de nombreux lecteurs des lettres du dimanche qui en voulaient encore plus en se procurant le vrai livre \u00e0 d\u00e9vorer.<\/p>\n
Pourtant, j\u2019avoue que mes cinq jours d\u2019affil\u00e9s au Salon du livre m\u2019ont paru presque aussi ardus que chaque dimanche de jadis alors que je devais retourner des centaines de cr\u00eapes aux fruits sur la plaque chauffante. Aujourd\u2019hui, ces m\u00eames dix doigts cuisinent de jolis paragraphes pour vous ravir.<\/p>\n
Au Salon du livre, j\u2019ai crois\u00e9 Janette\u00a0Bertrand pour qui j\u2019ai une totale admiration pour ses 98\u00a0ans. Sa lucidit\u00e9, sa tr\u00e8s grande pertinence et sa vitalit\u00e9 sont exceptionnelles. Je suis certaine qu\u2019elle va d\u00e9passer la doyenne du pays, Cecile\u00a0Edith\u00a0Klein, d\u00e9c\u00e9d\u00e9e \u00e0 114\u00a0ans, en 2022. Il semblerait que le secret de la long\u00e9vit\u00e9 de dame Klein c\u2019est qu\u2019elle est toujours rest\u00e9e tr\u00e8s positive. Alors, c\u2019est not\u00e9, \u00e9vitons la morosit\u00e9 et la tristesse si nous voulons devenir centenaires!<\/p>\n
Repos\u00e9e et remise de mes \u00e9motions, j\u2019ai vite pens\u00e9 \u00e0 reprendre l\u2019\u00e9criture. Mais avant toute chose, j\u2019ai tenu \u00e0 remercier mes amis proches du caf\u00e9 qui n\u2019ont cess\u00e9 de m\u2019encourager sinc\u00e8rement pendant l\u2019\u00e9criture de mon livre. Oui, oui! \u00c0 force d\u2019\u00eatre \u00e0 la m\u00eame table chaque matin, dans une boulangerie de village, je me suis fait des amis. Des hommes, des femmes et des habitu\u00e9s m\u2019inspiraient par de beaux bonjours, une courte jasette ou un sourire, et me racontaient m\u00eame quelquefois, une histoire entre deux caf\u00e9s. Plusieurs sont devenus des complices ayant \u00e0 c\u0153ur de m\u2019aider tout en \u00e9vitant de me distraire.<\/p>\n
C\u2019est donc pour cela que je les ai invit\u00e9s \u00e0 ma grande table pour un souper amical quelques jours avant No\u00ebl. Nous avons vaincu la superstition du chiffre 13. Nous \u00e9tions treize \u00e0 table comme lors du repas de la derni\u00e8re sc\u00e8ne. Mon grand ami Neil et son \u00e9pouse Ad\u00e8le, Marie-Pierre l\u2019h\u00f4tesse de l\u2019air, Claude le pilote de brousse, George le vieux Sicilien et son \u00e9pouse Carole, Steven le policier \u00e0 la retraite, \u00c9ric l\u2019ami cuisinier, Denis l\u2019ado de 70 ans, Sylvain qui vient de perdre son \u00e9pouse, le plus vieux de mes fils, sa compagne et moi-m\u00eame. Tous ces vieux sages de mon \u00e2ge (et m\u00eame mon gar\u00e7on et sa copine) ont beaucoup appr\u00e9ci\u00e9 mon invitation. Ils ont tous apport\u00e9 leur grand c\u0153ur et quelque chose dans leurs mains. Le sucre \u00e0 la cr\u00e8me de Sylvain, le d\u00e9licieux g\u00e2teau d\u2019Ad\u00e8le, les chocolats de George, les \u00eeles flottantes de l\u2019h\u00f4tesse de l\u2019air, les tartes au sucre de l\u2019ami cuisinier et plusieurs bouteilles de vin. J\u2019avais d\u00e9j\u00e0 mentionn\u00e9 au pilote de brousse, ancien professeur d\u2019\u00e9lectricit\u00e9, qu\u2019une pi\u00e8ce de la maison manquait de chauffage. Il est arriv\u00e9 avec un nouveau thermostat au lieu d\u2019une bouteille de vin, et l\u2019a aussit\u00f4t install\u00e9.<\/p>\n
Comme c\u2019\u00e9tait la premi\u00e8re fois que nous nous rassemblions \u00e0 la m\u00eame table, j\u2019ai pr\u00e9par\u00e9 des questions \u00ab\u00a0brise-glace\u00a0\u00bb pour le caf\u00e9 et le dessert, afin d\u2019apprendre \u00e0 nous conna\u00eetre davantage et de solidifier notre amiti\u00e9. Pour s\u00fbr, nous avons ri comme des ados \u00e0 entendre les r\u00e9ponses et, surtout, \u00e0 d\u00e9couvrir des anecdotes sur chaque invit\u00e9.<\/p>\n
Toute ma vie de cuisini\u00e8re et plus tard celle de femme d\u2019affaires se sont pass\u00e9es sans grande amiti\u00e9. Toujours, toujours, je devais \u00eatre aux aguets, pr\u00eate \u00e0 r\u00e9gler un probl\u00e8me, inventer un nouveau menu, inaugurer un restaurant, conqu\u00e9rir une province, r\u00e9ussir \u00e0 d\u00e9passer mes objectifs, ann\u00e9e apr\u00e8s ann\u00e9e. Je n\u2019avais en ce temps-l\u00e0 ni le temps d\u2019exister, ni l\u2019audace de me jeter dans le monde, ni l\u2019opportunit\u00e9 de me faire des amis. Aimer \u00e0 cette \u00e9poque \u00e9tait le possible le plus lointain.<\/p>\n
Et pourtant, voici que sur le tard m\u2019arrive l\u2019immense cadeau de l\u2019amiti\u00e9, ce sentiment r\u00e9ciproque d\u2019affection et de sympathie qui ne se fonde ni sur la parent\u00e9 ni sur l\u2019attrait sexuel. Il n\u2019est jamais trop tard pour apprendre que les relations d\u2019amiti\u00e9 sont source de bonheur, d\u2019\u00e9panouissement et de partage. Je r\u00e9alise aujourd\u2019hui que les vrais amis sont comme des anges. Nous n\u2019avons pas besoin de les voir pour sentir leur pr\u00e9sence. Ils sont toujours l\u00e0, dans nos t\u00eates.<\/p>\n
Cora
\n\u2764<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Quelques jours apr\u00e8s mon retour du fameux Salon du livre de Montr\u00e9al, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":414,"featured_media":889,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[32],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-30600","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-lettre-mme-cora"],"acf":{"img_en":"","contenu_en":"A few days after my book signing event at the Salon du livre de Montreal (Montreal book fair), I still couldn\u2019t stop thinking about all the attention I had received from devoted readers who took the time to stop at my table and chat, give their compliments and pick up a personalized autographed copy.\r\n\r\nFor a moment, I believed I was back in one of my first restaurants greeting each guest with a huge smile on my face. I was delighted to meet so many readers of my Sunday letters who wanted to get a copy of my book to read more of my stories.\r\n\r\nI must admit that these five consecutive days of book signing felt as strenuous as the Sundays long ago when I flipped hundreds of fresh fruit cr\u00eapes on the griddle. Today, these same 10 fingers cook up nourishing paragraphs for your delight.\r\n\r\nAt the book fair, I saw Janette\u00a0Bertrand (Quebec journalist, actor, writer and speaker, a thought-provoking content creator and a fierce advocate for the rights of women, the elderly and marginalized people), who I admire greatly for having reached 98 years in such fine form. I\u2019m convinced she\u2019ll surpass Canada\u2019s longest-living woman, Cecile Edith Klein, who passed in 2022 at the age of 114. It appears that Ms. Klein\u2019s secret to longevity was that she always remained very positive. Duly noted! Let\u2019s avoid gloom and sadness if we want to become centenarians.\r\n\r\nRested, with my feet back on the ground after this surge of emotions, I quickly started to think about writing again. But before weaving new tales, I wanted to thank my good friends from the local coffee shop who never ceased to encourage me while I was writing my book. I made friends by sitting at the same table, day after day. Men, women and regular patrons who inspired me with their hellos, a quick chat, a smile; and who would even sometimes tell me a story between two cups of coffee. Many have become my supporters, keen to help without distracting me.\r\n\r\nTo show my gratitude, I invited them to a friendly dinner at my large dining table a few days before Christmas. We defied the unlucky number 13. We were the same number at the table, just like at the Last Supper. My good friend Neil and his wife Ad\u00e8le, Marie-Pierre the flight attendant, Claude the bush pilot, George the old Sicilian with his wife Carole, Steven the retired policeman, my friend \u00c9ric the chef, Denis the 70-year-old teenager, Sylvain who recently lost his wife, my oldest son, his girlfriend and myself. All the wise old people that were my age (and even my son and his partner) really appreciated the invitation. They all brought their big hearts and something in their hands. Sylvain\u2019s fudge, Ad\u00e8le\u2019s delicious cake, George\u2019s chocolate, the flight attendant\u2019s floating island meringue, the chef\u2019s sugar pie and many bottles of wine. I had already mentioned to the bush pilot, a former electrician-instructor, that one of the bedrooms no longer had heat. He arrived with a new thermostat instead of a bottle of wine and installed it before dinner.\r\n\r\nSince it was the first time we were all gathered at the same table, I had prepared questions to break the ice at dessert time so we could get to know each other better and deepen our friendship. We giggled like teenagers when hearing the answers and mostly laughed out loud when hearing individual anecdotes.\r\n\r\nAll those years spent as a restaurateur and later on as a businesswoman were devoid of any meaningful friendships. I always, always had to be on the lookout, ready to solve a problem, invent a new menu, inaugurate a new restaurant, conquer a province and surpass my targets, year after year. During those years, I didn\u2019t have time to exist, the courage to approach others or the opportunity to develop friendships. At that time, loving was the furthest thing possible.\r\n\r\nNonetheless, I have finally received the immense gift of friendship later in life; the mutual feeling of affection and sympathy that is not based on family ties or sexual attraction. It\u2019s never too late to learn that friendships are a source of happiness, fulfillment and sharing. I realize today that true friends are like angels: We don\u2019t have to see them to feel their presence. They are always there, in our minds.\r\n\r\nCora\r\n\u2764"},"yoast_head":"\n