I think the way a person eats tells you a lot about them. If a person says to me, “I just don’t care about food that much,” I’m pretty sure we’re not going to be friends. (Sorry!) I think my husband and I probably have a mutual, unspoken understanding that if either one of us ever lost interest in food, we’d have to immediately enter marriage counseling. My brother owns a restaurant (If you live near San Francisco or ever visit—go. Deliciousness awaits.), and my sister is the most incredible sandwich-maker around, so I’m pretty sure my parents feel like we’ve all completely lost our minds when we get together for a delicious family meal, and all we can talk about is… the food we’re not eating and how amazing it was.
So, a post for the kids who love food and aren’t afraid to show it… My life through my eating:
Best meal: Tie between: Eating lentils at Der Palaro, a tiny restaurant on a cobbled side street in Rome. Sopping up the “juice” of the dish with fresh Italian bread is as close as I’ve ever gotten to pure bliss. I don’t know what they put in this, but you can be sure that the next time I visit Rome I am not leaving without the recipe.
AND Eating barbecue chicken from a picnic basket in an twinkling olive grove under the stars surrounded by everyone I love at my wedding… I would have that meal a hundred times over. (Context is everything when you’re eating!)
Best childhood food memory: Eating fresh, warm tortillas from my grandmother’s comal. Maybe with a bit of butter. And a sprinkling of cinnamon sugar. (I despair of ever tasting another tortilla this good.)
Worst food memory: Still thinking about this. Maybe the meal I had at the completely forgettable Italian restaurant where my boyfriend (before my husband)—whom I thought I was about to marry—told me that he wanted to see other people. I was probably eating ravioli. (Note: All my ravioli since then has been amazing. Especially the veal ravioli from Eataly in NYC.)
Food I just don’t “get”: Mochi. (Cold, sugary Styrofoam… wha?) Also, pork belly. I know it’s on the menu at every fancy restaurant. But I’m over it, sorry.
I’m happiest when I’m drinking: Water. (Okay, during the day. At work. I really do drink a lot of water. But, really, I love cocktails. Preferably with bourbon. Or wine. I like red wine a lot. Or a really awesome micro-brewed beer… No, I’m not an alcoholic. Wait, am I?)
I don’t really care about: Mashed potatoes. Or potato anything—potato chips, French fries. (Well, I do love a great baked potato now and again…)
Weirdest thing I’ve ever eaten: I don’t eat weird stuff. But I had beef cheek ravioli once at Mario Batali’s restaurant, and it was delicious.
Best meal I’ve ever participated in cooking: Aaaah. That’s gotta be it’s own post.
Other facts about my eating/drinking habits: I drink really fast. I can even drink when laying down, which really weirds my husband out.