The Best Thing Ever.


Quail Egg Raviolo at from Schwa

Quail egg, ricotta, brown butter, parmigiano-reggiano, white truffle

I can’t think of anything I’ve eaten before or since which has made me feel the same way.  Of course, having read up on Schwa before going, I was anticipating this course as soon as our reservation was confirmed.  But nothing could’ve prepared me.  It was like eating sunshine.

Why do I consider this to be the best eating experience I’ve ever had?

Whether I should or shouldn’t, I turn to food to find contentment and satisfaction.  The single-minded pursuit of finding food is obviously primal at the core, but beyond the basic provision of nourishment, there are several much more complex factors at play.

Finding great food is a detailed process of optimization.  The most obvious factors to consider are price, nutrition, taste, and convenience, but there are many more which I will not enumerate now.  Suffice to say, many of these factors can be left out of the decision making process, but the more they are considered, the more likely the experience is to go from good to great.  All of these factors contribute overall to a happiness quotient, which can then be augmented through reflection and meditation.  Even in writing this post now, I am deriving satisfaction from an experience which occurred in the past.

But at the time of eating, I felt fulfillment and happiness.  As I tasted the raviolo, the luxury of the flavor and texture were intoxicating.  It wasn’t until after I finished that I noticed my dining companions were laughing at me in disbelief.

I’m not sure if it’s vulgar to enjoy food so much (especially in public), but if I can find a way to replicate that raviolo I swear I will never leave my house.


2 Comments on “The Best Thing Ever.”

  1. schwa diner says:

    The pasta was under cooked. It was a raw egg! A la the scene in rocky when he gets up and cracks a half dozen chicken eggs in a glass, downs them and goes out for a run!!!!!

  2. thajuicer says:

    Sorry to hear you weren’t as enraptured as I was – I guess there’s no accounting for taste.

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