At the heavy end of the food scale
Just for the sake of conversation, let’s put “going out for supper” as the subject. Then, let’s decide on two ends of an arbitrary scale. At one edge, a quick burger at a drive-thru. At the other, how about six hours of constant “foodie” action, in a theme park, directed by a real chef. This evening, we chose the latter.
Just getting home, after what might be one of the better meals of my lifetime. We arrived on site in late afternoon, and went on a special tour of the attendant farm. Organic, all the way, with a slight accent of tiny piglets (next season’s sausage and ribs, but keep it a secret from tender ears). I learned about various mulching styles, and role of spiders in keeping the pesky flies away. There was a short section on growing marigolds with your tomatoes. And then, it was time to eat.
Little bits at a time. Some tacos from alpaca. Sausages in beet ketchup (last year’s pigs). Salmon and oysters (which I ignored), although seeing the “kid” from my campground with a new job as a shucker was good fun. Also, the girl from yoga (I learned that along the way).
Enough outside fare. On to the table, where our menu was long and varied. In particular, a chance to try some new (for me) vegetables, along with sauces that made everything better. Near the end, a whole plate of desserts involving rosemary and cranberries and other stuff that rarely comes into my kitchen.
We had interesting conversations with the neighbours (staff from a Toronto-area university), and a chance to abstain from incinerating homebrew marshmallows. And when all was done, we received the signed kitchen menu, from the chefs. A memento, long after the thrill has passed.
