In high school, I was in French Club. Each year, we had a big outing to a French restaurant down in Colorado. We got really dressed up. We could only speak en français. We ate French cuisine ordered from French menus. We always tried escargot. It was a Big Deal.
I remember being so surprised, my first time at the French restaurant, when they brought out a citrus sorbet between the first and second courses.
To cleanse the palate, they said. (In French, of course.)
Huh? I said. (Also in French.)
Because, yeah. Palate cleansers weren't A Thing in my casserole-eating family.
Let's just say . . . I've come a long way since then. Not that I typically serve palate cleansers on a regular basis or anything. But at least I know what they are now -- and the purpose they serve in preparing one for . . . the next course.
I guess you could say I'm knitting the equivalent of a palate cleanser right now.
I finished my sweater on Sunday (but haven't had a chance to weave in the ends or block it), and I'm not ready to jump in to another big project quite yet. So I'm . . . cleansing my knitting palate . . . with a simple little project. (This one.) Quick. Satisfying. Different. By the time I'm finished knitting it, maybe I should be ready for my next big project.
My reading is tending toward the palate cleansing as well, it seems. Feeling rather weighed down by the books I was reading, I decided I needed a little break. . . and gobbled up the sixth book in Ann Cleeves' Shetland series, Thin Air. It turned out to be just what I needed.
Sometimes a little palate cleanser really does the trick!