I Won’t Eat That, Said the Mother-in-Law, Gazing at the Dish with Disgust

I wont eat that, the motherinlaw said, eyeing the dish with disgust.
What is this? Eleonore wrinkled her nose, as if a bucket of trash had been placed on the table.
Its potaufeu, her daughterinlaw Solène replied with a smile. She lifted the lid of a ceramic tureen and began ladling the steaming, colorful broth. Its such a joy to cook with vegetables from my own garden.
I dont see the point, the motherinlaw scoffed. But Ill admit, tending a garden takes a lot of effort!
Absolutely, Solène laughed warmly. When its a hobby, its always pleasant.
Youre talking about your hobby, not one imposed on you, Eleonore sniffed, pursing her lips. For whom did you make all this?
For us. There isnt much, just enough for two meals.
I wont eat that mush, the motherinlaw retorted, waving her hands and taking a step back. Its incomprehensible! Eleonore pretended to gag, covering her mouth with her hand and averting her gaze from the table.
Solène rolled her eyes and sighed.
She had met Maxime, Eleonores son, a year and a half earlier. Their love was so intense that they married a month later, without a lavish ceremony. With their saved money they bought a country house, which they were gradually turning into a home with affection.
In the meantime Solène had only seen Eleonore four timesjust as many as Maxime. In fact, three of those visits were because Solène had persuaded her husband to call on his mother for the holidays.
Eleonore had always regarded her sons marriage as a folly. Yet she had no power over her grown, independent son, so she waited for what she saw as a natural, logical outcome. That outcome, however, kept dragging its feet, and it was beginning to irritate her.
She could not understand what Maxime had found in this very ordinary girl, and she wondered how Solène had managed to charm him. He was a handsome young man, constantly surrounded by more elegant and attractive women.
Moreover, Eleonore was a city dweller through and through, and she had raised her son the same way. Motherly instinct told her that Maxime already had enough of rural life and that a small push would return everything to the way it had been. After that bitter experience, she was convinced he would finally find a partner who could forge genuine friendships with her.
But she needed to act quickly and prevent the clever Solène from trapping her son with a child!
Eleonore devised a plan: she called her daughterinlaw to ask for an invitation, since she had not been invited to the housewarming. Solène reminded her that she had invited Eleonore twice over the phone, but Eleonore had always slipped away, claiming she was busy. Eleonore waved those excuses aside and declared her intention to visit her son.
Two days later she found herself in a spacious, bright living room, barely able to contain her indignation. Her son, just like her and her late husband, despised soups! In their family only easily recognizable dishes were tolerated.
How could Maxime have let his wife take charge so quickly? Was she a sorceress? A shiver of anxiety ran through Eleonore. She immediately dismissed the crude notion that Solène kept Maxime with bedroom tricks.
Tricks and Solène? Incompatible! Surely a spell! Otherwise, how could her son be eating that mixture?
Eleonore shot a hateful glance at her daughterinlaw. She pretended to be a saint while slowly killing her husband.
Whats incomprehensible about it? Solène said, seemingly oblivious to her motherinlaws acting, while refilling a second bowl of potaufeu and handing it to Eleonore. Its simple. Theres cabbage, onions, carrots, and grated beetroot, just like my grandmas recipe. I didnt grab any potatoes this time, but Ill have them next round, plus a few fresh herbs from the garden and a dash of cream.
Then eat your mush! the motherinlaw exclaimed, flailing her hands.
Youd need it at your age! Fiber regulates the gut and improves intestinal flora. When the flora thrives, its owner does too!
Eleonore blushed at Solènes boldness but said nothing and continued: Why are you forcing Maxime to eat that?
Solène blinked, puzzled. He seems to like it.
What can a man do when theres nothing else to eat?
Cook what he prefers? Order takeout? Visit a neighbor? Go to his mothers? Solène listed with a smile.
At the last suggestion Eleonores face reddened further.
Dont be sarcastic! At least ask me what he likes, out of politeness.
Eleonore, I asked him directly. Hes old enough to speak for himself. He says he likes everything.
Hes lying! Cant you see it? At first he didnt want to upset you. Now hes forcing himself!
Ah! Solène drew a long face and sighed. The potaufeu is ready; were not going to throw it away. He has to try it. Will you support him too?
What?! the motherinlaws eyes widened at Solène.
No? Too bad. Im sure your son would appreciate your solidarity.
You
Solène! Were home! Maximes cheerful voice echoed from the hallway.
Suddenly a fluffy white dog burst into the living room, barking.
Aaaah! Eleonore screamed, hiding behind Solène.
Dont worry, thats Louna. She doesnt bite and shes wellbehaved, Solène reassured, raising her hand. The dog settled down and sat obediently. Honey, youre wonderful.
Why are you letting the neighbors dogs in? Eleonore whispered, still shocked.
Why the neighbors? Shes ours. Shes inside because shes a domestic pet. She lives with us.
Inside? Thats unsanitary! the motherinlaw exclaimed. And Maxime doesnt like dogs!
No, Mom, you dont like dogs. Hello, Maxime said as he entered the room. Youre just in time for lunch.
Hello, my son! Eleonore stayed put, waiting for a kiss on the cheek, but Maxime only gave her a light hug while Solène received a gentle kiss on the lips.
So, shall we eat? the host sniffed the air, a blissful smile on his face.
Gladly, Maxime, but theres nothing.
What do you mean nothing?
You prepared food for the pigs. By the way, you never told me you had them. It must smell terrible, worse than the city traffic.
Maxime stared at his mother, then at Solène, then at the set table. His neck muscles tightened and his gaze returned to his mother, stripped of the lightness he had moments before.
Honestly, Id forgotten those habits, Misha said, bitterly.
What habits, my son? Our tastes, our principles, our traditions! You never complained!
Me? As a child I feared your wrath. As an adult I didnt want to worsen things with you.
What are you talking about?! Eleonore shouted, incredulous, prompting another round of Lounas barks. Quiet! she protested, threatening the dog Solène was holding with a clenched fist. She has her preferences, she growled at Solène, but why let yourself be trampled? Happy to feed yourself garbage? Let her turn the house into a menagerie? Who really rules this roof?
I Maxime murmured darkly.
Then act like the master of this place! Eleonore declared, satisfied.
Wheres your luggage? Maxime asked.
Still at the entrance! she complained instantly. And I havent eaten since the trip.
Perfect. Thank Solène for the invitation.
What?
Thank Solène for this final attempt at reconciliation and apologize.
But she
Mom!
Thankyou and excuseme, Eleonore snapped angrily.
Solène gave a solemn nod.
Lets go.
Where?
Where everything is to your liking, according to your rules, your traditions.
But Maxime, I Eleonore began, but her son cut her off:
It was your tastes with Dad, not mine. My opinion mattered little. Yet he once told me, You dont like whats ours, create your own. I followed that. Here its my taste, my rules, my traditions. And the lady of the house is my wife. Not happy? You still have your own place.
My son! She turned you against me! Eleonore adopted a plaintive tone. She bewitched you! she whispered dramatically.
Maxime could take no more. He grabbed his mothers arm, led her to the entrance, grabbed her travel bag, opened the door, and silently escorted her to the gate, then said:
By the way, know that Solène was on your side. She gets along with her relatives. She didnt think it could be like ours. In the kitchen a dish was prepared for you, but the potaufeu was the test. You showed your true face. He opened the door: The taxi is waiting.
You but how did you arrange a taxi?! Eleonore stammered, still stunned by her sons bluntness.
I told Solène to wait and not release him right away. She did the right thing.
You! But you! Eleonore erupted.
I, Mom, am the master of the house, just as you wanted, Maxime signaled to the driver, placed his mothers bag on the ground before she could climb in, entered the property and shut the door.
A spell, Eleonore concluded, convinced she had diagnosed her son. Already seated in the taxi, she fumbled with her phone, searching for a way to break the enchantment, convinced there must be something that could bring her son back.