…I think, to have a dining experience that’s been so highly anticipated, and ends up exceeding every gastronomic level, that I have absolutely no defining words to describe the pathos of that evening.
After our dinner at Blue Hill a few weeks ago, I sat down and chronicled the night. I wrote pages and pages (five, in all), spewing the delights and triumphs that were presented before us. But for some reason, those written words do not do justice to the earthy, yet ethereal love affair we consumed and that consumed us.
A few days ago, I received a package in the mail. The menu, from that specific night, signed by Chef Dan Barber.
Still at a loss for words. Too busy swooning.
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