And to the inventory of my faults she added this time a new adjective, or one that to my ears now took on a new meaning:
"Insipid!"
There: I was insipid, I thought, without flavor. And the Mexican cuisine, with all its boldness and imagination, was needed if Olivia was to feed on me with satisfaction. The spiciest flavors were the complement indeed, the avenue of communication, indispensable as a loudspeaker that amplifies sounds- for Olivia to be nourished by my substance.
"I may seem insipid to you," I protested, "but there are ranges of flavor more discreet and restrained than that of red peppers. There are subtle tastes that one must know how to perceive."
-Italo Calvino
