Religious Experience

I had one of the best meals in recent memory the other night. In fact I can’t remember the last meal I enjoyed more. This put me into an out of body experience where it was just me and the flavor of the meal dancing in the ether. Everything around me faded away as I focused on my senses of smell and taste.

Earlier in the day when I asked the hosts what I should bring, “Something simple,” they replied.

I brought a bag of lettuce.

And a tasteless hot house tomato.

Did I mention how great this meal was?

We had beef sirloin that was pan seared in butter, lightly seasoned and put into the oven just long enough to provide a nice medium-rare doneness. Delicious! That was paired with big-ass prawns that were grilled to perfection. The flavors of the two were indescribable. Wonderfully paired, melt in your mouth, gastro-perfect delight.

Sitting on the table in a bowl, all by itself, having seen fresher days, was my lazy-assed salad wilting by the minute. Of course everyone took some…out of politeness. But it was clear that this so-called side dish was far outclassed by the main event. It was like bringing Cheez Whiz to Martha Stewart’s house. Like hanging a black light poster in a Donald Trump condo. Like wearing Birkenstocks to a Sex and The City movie.

You get the drift.

Next time I’m invited to dinner I think I’ll just bring the salt.