Arnon Grunberg


Ten hours

About ten hours before I left New York for Amsterdam I had lunch at Madison Bistro.
“What’s the bar special?” I asked.
“Gnocchi with Spanish sausages,” the charming, female bartender answered.
I wasn’t in the mood for gnocchi with Spanish sausages, so I ordered steak tartare.
“Spicy?” the bartender asked.
“Medium,” I answered.
I finished my steak tartare. Less than two hours later I was hit by food poisoning; it was the worst food poisoning since I ate dubious ice cream in Santiago in 2008.
I drank two bottles of coke. After that I managed to travel to Amsterdam.