Sunday, July 13, 2014
Saturday, July 5, 2014
(Interesting fact: a plurality of Americans describe Olive Garden as "a quality purveyor of authentic Italian food." You can look it up. Meanwhile, something in me has died.)
Meanwhile: rarebit. Nothing more than the sharpest, most flavorful cheese toast ever devised. On in-house bread. Who would argue with that? (Well, vegans, but they're only the best proof we have that aliens exist and are here among us.)
And it's cheap.
In that regard, it's been a more difficult endeavor than getting a table at the French Laundry. But one waits, and waits, and waits, a Gila monster in the sun, hungry, patient, consigned.
If you don't know the story of Fergus Henderson, and even if you do food the wrong way (do you eat to live? or live to eat?), it's inspiring. Let's go inside, shall we?