This is deep. There is a special kind of pre-emptive grief that gets activated when you're told you're in the presence of something fleeting. The one-off dish is like having a one-on-one confession with someone on death-row--come morning, they'll be gone along with everything you said to them. It's hard to look past all that, but hey...a meal is a meal. Now I'm hungry!
It was exactly that. Preemptive grief, you know? The dish hadn’t even gone cold and there I was already a wreck about it. I suppose if it was around for me every weekend maybe it would cease to be as special as it was the first time? Or maybe I should stop making everything into a catastrophic life event and just order the manicotti next time.
I know the feeling…I think there’s a “sweet spot” where something stops being ephemeral but also doesn’t become a banal fixture. I pray the pasta gods will enlighten the Chef to bring it back every now and again.
A perfect reminder that a priceless hour is that which is beyond the value of mere money, time and circumstance and entirely dependent on being fully submerged in the present moment. Thank you.
I feel like this many times, an anxiety to live a fleeting moment so intensely that it will get tattooed in my guts. I want people to perform an autopsy when I’m dead and see scribbled all over my bowels “I was here”. Feeling a sadness for what was while it still is, I forget to truly savour the moment.
How I felt at Carmine's in Times Square back in June, not knowing if I'd ever be able to relive that experience 😢
Cuts deep, don’t it?
This is deep. There is a special kind of pre-emptive grief that gets activated when you're told you're in the presence of something fleeting. The one-off dish is like having a one-on-one confession with someone on death-row--come morning, they'll be gone along with everything you said to them. It's hard to look past all that, but hey...a meal is a meal. Now I'm hungry!
It was exactly that. Preemptive grief, you know? The dish hadn’t even gone cold and there I was already a wreck about it. I suppose if it was around for me every weekend maybe it would cease to be as special as it was the first time? Or maybe I should stop making everything into a catastrophic life event and just order the manicotti next time.
I know the feeling…I think there’s a “sweet spot” where something stops being ephemeral but also doesn’t become a banal fixture. I pray the pasta gods will enlighten the Chef to bring it back every now and again.
The first gift is the understanding that everything passes.
The second gift is the acceptance of the first gift.
The third gift is a grudging final joy that it is so.
So I’ve been told, Murph
Gratitude is really important. It is a virtue worth cultivating. Oddly, it tends to make you happy.
apparently that's the beauty of it. or so i've heard
Reading this was like getting kicked in the guts and enjoying it.
I tried to go back and read it again just to relive the experience, but it was gone, like water through my fingers.
Thanks for the great reads. :)
A perfect reminder that a priceless hour is that which is beyond the value of mere money, time and circumstance and entirely dependent on being fully submerged in the present moment. Thank you.
NY ain’t easy but it is NY
a reminder I need often, especially during the winter months
the black and white tiles and black coffee. yes please.
Just made a third cup ⭐️
love this!! "infinite feelings that exist in a finite frame" is now a phrase etched in my mind
🖤
I feel like this many times, an anxiety to live a fleeting moment so intensely that it will get tattooed in my guts. I want people to perform an autopsy when I’m dead and see scribbled all over my bowels “I was here”. Feeling a sadness for what was while it still is, I forget to truly savour the moment.
Thank you, Su, for willing the Burrata gods into existence. The world is a much better (and more delicious) place for it.
Yep, this is exquisite. Loved it xoxo