Eating: A Love Story

“All happiness depends on a leisurely breakfast” - Anonymous

Would life be tolerable without it? Well, not the practical part about it’s unimpeachable role in keeping our body functioning—the staying alive part; I mean …..the pleasure of it all. Eating! How many problems can’t be made better (or even forgotten) with the prescient promise of food in the very near future? Peppercorn crackers with Brie cheese and some tampanade (or some jam)? A ripe golden peach. A pastrami on rye with swiss cheese and classic yellow mustard. It’s happening at 12:15. It celebratory. It’s an excuse to gather. In the car, in a boat, at a picnic table, under the stars….at the most perfect setting for any “eating”: a Restaurant. Many of us prefer the requisite restaurant setting in order to create the drama --the theatre of “eating”. Isn’t eating just a little bit better when it’s hosted by a waiter, or prescribed in writing on one of the most unique templates in the American lexicon: the Menu. It makes eating elegant. A restaurant, and it’s menu, and those indispensable waiters-- they ennoble the act of “eating”. Oh, I’ve eaten my share of “Burrito Supremes” on the fly, in my car, on my lap, half devoured before I get out of the “to go” line in the parking lot of Taco Bell. Yes, I’ve been there too (and it’s good enough, “good to go”, in a pinch), but a restaurant is the civilized way to go about it; get out your “finest” or just a bare table with napkins. What the heck would we do without eating; the fraternity of it; the staging. Let’s meet at Micelli’s on Cahuenga. See you at Dudley’s on the Lower East Side at 7:00? I can hardly focus when thinking of the burrata with thinly sliced pears and toasted hazelnuts. Yes, hazelnuts. And, don't laugh at a donut. A good donut, even an average donut, can be the "Secretariat" of foods.

Waiter: "Can I get you something to drink?"

You tell them, they listen and they are gone for that glorious wedge of time between ordering, and the serving. It’s one of my favorite pieces of time. The work of ordering is over…the work of eating is not quite upon you…you have permission to do nothing—make gentle conversation with your dining companion, check your Instagram account, see who is ready to make a run in college basketball. Spaghetti Bolognese and a butter lettuce salad with Gorgonzola for starters (with pine nuts). It’s a reason to get out of bed in the morning. It’s reason to get in the car and drive an hour. It punctuates the day in such a festive way. It never gets old. The act of eating NEVER gets old. It recharges every ….6 hours, or so….That’s all you have to wait before you are at the starting line again…they are punching your ticket once again…for “eating”. You can count on it….It will never abandon you….For those who are in constant pursuit of physical pleasures, the pursuit of the flesh…you might go disappointed, unsated for long stretches, even….let it go….stick with the one thing that will always love you back. No, not your German Shepherd (that’s good too) but the beautiful rebooting of the desire for “eating”. I can even eat the same thing day after day and feel more than satisfied. If I had to say it…if pressed by thugs on the street, I might have to say that “eating” is the love of my life. Well, I’m exaggerating a little. (just a little). How many of you, if you have a “dinner out” that night planned….will see the whole day buoyed by that dinner yet to come? It puts a smile on the whole day.

“Where there is cake, there is hope. And there is always cake.”

-Dean Koontz

At home, just a month or so ago I got a whimsical inspiration…I decided to go to the market. It was about 6 p.m.. I bought ground beef, a block of sharp cheddar cheese, sour cream, cilantro (never forget cilantro), tomatillo salsa, olives, and small (no, medium) sized flour tortillas. I took the bag of suches back to the house and sliced and diced…immediately smelling the presence of fresh cilantro in the air. I stopped at that moment and told Alexa to play “Lady Love” by Lou Rawls. That’s one of mine. It’s my Karaoke song. I sang it as I stirred and seasoned the ground beef (careful not to overcook it). I shredded the cheddar (not too fine), opened the sour cream…you get the rest….I assembled and wrapped in the perfectly warmed and slightly toasted tortilla…I sat down (3 or 4 versions of “Lady love” in the can) and took a bite of the best soft taco that I think I have ever passed over these lips o’ mine. I don’t know if I felt goosebumps but it was something sensual. I made (and ate) another and even a third. I made one for my wife…she conceded. Yes. She said they were multiple stars. Holy crap. Don’t get me wrong…I still prefer a restaurant any time. Eating on that stage (among others seeking the same comforts and joys) is always going to be first choice but this time--this time in my own kitchen I gave the restaurant joy a little competition. I won’t ever sing Lou Rawls again without thinking about soft tacos (those soft tacos) and the smell of fresh cilantro.

I left one thing out…..the Thrill: The thrill of eating in a restaurant with other people..all eating different things at different times. All deciding at that moment in time to choose to eat in the same place as you are. It’s almost a slumber party if you don’t include the sleeping part. Next to you is a couple who is just finishing their dessert. In a few minutes a foursome will sit down and soon have (4) ice waters thrust on their table and menus distributed. They come, they go….I feel a warmth when a party of people gets seated next to me…I feel good knowing that they are going to be there for awhile, sharing the experience in their own way. If I could change one thing….just one, it would be to make the dining experience longer. The time we spend eating just doesn’t take long enough for me. Eggs are the most hasty meal you can find. I don’t know just why but a few eggs and bacon and potatoes and toast can disappear in 5 minutes…..even Huevos Rancheros goes in a flash; darn! Most pasta dishes take awhile…a sandwich requires some time to eat….a large salad really stretches things out. Nothing, though, is a marathon like Pizza. A whole pizza means you are settling in.….add a dessert and you can be there for 2 hours. What’s the rush, anyways. It’s like when I was a kid and I went to the Dodgers game. I was always praying for extra innings…something that enjoyable should always go to extra innings.

I’ve eaten hundreds of uniquely different recipes of chocolate chip cookies. Its a pretty basic recipe. So, why is it that a chain, pre-made food “take out” market in Manhattan has the best chocolate chip cookie I’ve ever tasted. It’s not even close! The blend of crusty edges and softer center. The chocolate chip cookies are made on sight. I’m not articulate enough to describe the magic that is the “Pret a Manger” chocolate chip cookie. I'm working on it.

Eating: It never gets tired. It never gets old. It's always a thrill.

Food for thought......