Before last night, it was probably the chicken stew in a bread bowl we enjoyed in Hanover, NH on a rainy day. But then on a cold day in December, the onion rings arrived on a little spindle at a small cozy pub tucked in the basement of a beautiful country inn in Fryeburg, Maine. We eat a good two or three meals a day but every so often arrives sustenance that is memorable for years afterwards. Is it truly that the meal enjoyed is so divine, so unforgettable? Or is it, instead, that at these times, everything surrounding the food is arranged perfectly; the moment is right, the atmosphere is just what is needed, the one you are sharing the meal with is, well, the one?!
As M.F.K. Fisher, an American author who wrote often of food, culture, and philosophy once said, "There is a communion of more than our bodies when bread is broken and wine drunk". Bon Appetit!
No comments:
Post a Comment