Your most exceptional/ memorable meal

[Dave Hatfield]

I originally asked & answered this question over on the French forum. Here's the link.

One of my answers is in the forum, another on my blog, link below.

The answers that everyone have come up with are just great. Very personal and very varied. Really really interesting and in some cases touching.

In the French forum I limited the responses to meals in France. Here I'd like to broaden the question.

So, lets hear about your most memorable/ exceptional meals anywhere at any time. Restaurant meals? At a friends house? Your Mom (or Pop's)? Ad hoc? Cooked it yourself?

Anything or where goes.

Let's hear yours!

[Kevin72]

Most of the best memories of my life have some attendant food element. First meal with my new wife on our honeymoon in Venice comes to mind. Then on that same trip, probably one of my all-time favorite meals was a multi-course reading of Emilia-Romagna standards at Villa Gaidello. A subsequent visit to Puglia, Italy gave another all timer: Sunday Lunch at Il Frantoio near Ostuni.

One of the best restaurant meals I've had in the past few years was my wife, my brother and his wife, and parents at the General's Daughter in Sonoma a few summers back on an eye opening trip to California.

One of my very favorite meals was my first exposure to multi-course dining at a now defunct Chinese-style restaurant in Houston on New Year's eve. We had been to a wedding earlier that day and didn't get enough to eat, then wound up hungrily digging around town for a place. Of course most were booked up but this place took us. But they had only one menu for the evening. We went with it (but with a number of I'm sure maddening substitutions) and it really opened my eyes to a new way of eating. I think that might be my all time favorite meal.

Just this past weekend, though, I had a new potential memorable meal candidate. Nothing special, just a really good time. And, not to be too bold about it, but I cooked the meal. We had some friends over and their kids. We've both had our kids just in the past couple years and really hadn't had a chance to get together much. My wife's sister was in from out of town and we did kind of a big, grand, combined birthday meal for several of us. I had made an enormous batch of various sausages and set some aside for the meal.

It's been a spectacular spring in Dallas this year so we ate outside. Spread a big blanket out on the backyard grass for the kids to be on and the grownups ate. I cooked the sausages over a bed of potatoes and bay leaves in a cast iron skillet on the grill, and then also made some braised mixed bitter greens on the side. We had gnocchi with spicy tomato sauce, mint and pecorino for a first course. Dessert was tiramisu. Three bottles of various wines: pinot grigio, an oaky primitivo from California (umm, I guess a zinfandenl, in other words?) and then a barbera to finish off. Set the iPod up to blare fave tunes in the background and just enjoyed everyone's company, then burned off dinner by playing with the kids in the grass. I wouldn't change a second.

[DaleJ]

For memorable, I always recall fondly a dinner a couple of years ago in Pienza, at Il Rossellino, a tiny (seats maybe 20) mom and pop place in the center of town.

After an aparativo or two, the missus (Franca) appeared with a little basket of fresh porcini. I was asked to select one and I chose the largest, perhaps the size of a hamburger bun. Minutes later it was presented, by itself, as the main course after being sauted in olive oil and thyme.

Surely not the most elaborate or tastiest meal ever, but I'll never forget the moment.

[Kevin72]

Surely not the most elaborate or tastiest meal ever, but I'll never forget the moment.

←

It's always the little moments like that, isn't it?

[Doodad]

As a young teen in DC, we went to a restaurant in Chinatown in that city. Our friends were intelligence officers and spoke Chinese and knew the place. It was an unmarked door up a dingy flight of stairs to another door. Upon opening the door, you were transported to a dining room in the forbidden city complete with appropriately dressed staff,

One dish I will never forget was a fried fish that was cooked alive and still moving when brought to the table. THAT I have never seen again and will never forget. It literally blew my mind.

[shellfishfiend]

My husband and I married very young. We were so poor we didn't take a honeymoon until five years later (and we could barley afford that). We went to Cozumel, Mexico with four of my husbands friends. Most nights we did the group club thing. But one night, my husband and I went out alone for a special meal. We thought this was very extravagent as the resort was all inclusive.

We went to this lobster place on the beach. Candles in conch shells, low lights, light music. The sun was just setting and the dining room was open to the beach. There was lightening way off on the water and the stars started peeking out. Then, a huge old schooner (sp.) drifts by.

I walked over to the iced bin where they had the fresh lobster tails and picked one that cost four times what I normally spent on a meal. My husband did the same. They prepared our lobsters in our choosen methods and served them with a flourish. It was so different from the one or two lobsters I had eaten at Red Lobster I even got to have a baked potato, something that I had trouble finding in Cozumel. (I really love baked potatoes.)

The whole experience was magical and I still think of it. Four years later, we went back with our best freinds. Same amazing feeling and best of all, we got to share it with others.

[purplewiz]

1975. Windows on the World, top of the World Trade Center.

I grew up solidly middle class. Even though we lived in New Jersey, my mother was a Midwestern cook (her mother was from Omaha), so food was good and plentiful if not adventurous or inspired.

I read voraciously as a child. In all the books and magazines people always seemed to be eating the most exotic foods - seafood soups and chicken tarragon and Caesar salad - dishes completely out of my realm of experience. I daydreamed about living that life and tasting those foods.

Every year, my aunt who lived in New York City would give my family some kind of outing as a Christmas gift. Most years it was tickets to a Broadway show (that's how I got to see Cats a few weeks after it opened - my aunt has connections!), but this year it was dinner at Windows on the world.

I was in sixth grade that year, and I still remember what I wore - a miserable, itchy synthetic sweater in bright red (which looks awful on me) and a long skirt, black with multicolored stripes in a chevron. We definitely dressed up for such a fancy dinner.

We rode the elevator to the top and were promptly seated in the wine room. My aunt was not pleased about that because part of the treat of this evening was for "the kids" (my siblings and I) to enjoy the view while we ate. I don't know what all happened, but we did end up eating in the wine room. We were permitted in the bar and pretty much everywhere else to enjoy the view later, which I thought was pretty neat.

But what I remember most of all is reading the menu and asking "Can I REALLY order the filet mignon?" Filet mignon was THE dish served in all those books and magazines when a sophisticated and elegant meal was required. It was the ultimate.

And yes, I could have filet mignon! And I could order the potatoes au gratin with it....of which my only experience previously had been those from a box marked Betty Crocker.

I don't remember exactly what the food tasted like - I WAS only 11 - but I remember enjoying it a great deal. More importantly, I remember thinking "yes, there IS something more out there" than what I knew. It was the first step into a larger universe - it seems like such a small step from this perspective, but it was enormous then.

It was many years before I was able to dine at that level again, but just knowing for sure that there was so much more to be experienced made a huge difference in my young life. I didn't just imagine any more - I KNEW.

And I still think filet mignon and potatoes au gratin is a fabulous meal.

Marcia.

[BekkiM]

What a great topic! As I read through the other responses they brought back such lovely food memories:

...growing up in Vermont in the 1970s and going to the town's first Mexican restaurant. It seemed so exotic and sophisticated to have "discovered" a new cuisine. I still remember how spicy my first pickled jalapeno was.

...going to a real restaurant (white tablecloths, crystal, multiple flatware, etc.) with three of my friends without our parents for my 16th birthday, a treat from my parents. We felt so grown up being able to order appetizers AND entree AND dessert all on our own.

...taking my parents to dim sum in San Francisco when I was living there in the late 80s/early 90s. They had come out to visit me and, in an attempt to show them how worldly I was, I took them down to Chinatown to a restaurant I'd never been to, to order food I'd never heard of. Totally back-fired. None of us liked the various dumplings and the chicken feet repulsed me so much I couldn't eat. I may have learned more "food tolerance" since then, but it was memorable for its failure at the time.

...walking through San Francisco early one evening with my then-boyfriend (now husband) and stepping into a tiny, empty Italian restaurant in what's now Hayes Valley (I don't think the area even had a name at the time). In what has become an of-told joke, when we asked the host (who turned out to be the owner) for a table, he looked around the room (which held, at most, 10 tables) for several minutes, then back at us, then the room, then us... He asked if we had a reservation and when we, quite puzzled, said "no," he looked very thoughtful, then said, in a rushed voice, “Well, I’ll see if I can squeeze you in.” Mind you, the place was dead empty at the time, so we were laughing as we were seated about how incredibly pompous this little Italian man was, but within 15 minutes, the place was packed to the gills with a line down the block. Little did we know that we had stumbled into a local neighborhood gem called Café Della Stella (it became a much larger place later and may still be there for all I know.) I don’t remember much about the food except that it was excellent and that we were very taken with the pitchers of sparkling water with orange slices floating in them and used that concept for years in own home. It was one of those completely unexpected moments in your life that shine brightly in your memory because it was so unique and special and warm and wonderful and such a great moment in the beginning of my life with my husband.

…saying goodbye to San Francisco and Café Della Stella as we were moving to Michigan. When the owner came by our table to take our wine order and we selected something cheap (we didn’t make much money in those days), he shook his head and said “No! I will not sell you that bottle of wine. I will sell you this bottle of wine” and he pointed at a bottle in the list close to our price range, saying “this wine should be down here” and he pointed at the bottle of the list, where expensive bottles live. When he returned with our wine, he sat down at our table, opened the wine, and poured three glasses, two for us and one for him. It was a great moment.

…eating fois gras for the first time in a restaurant in Prague and having a food epiphany that I needed to get out more, try more things, discover what the food world had to offer. Hence, eGullet.

[lemniscate]

Two friends and I visited Japan in 1997. We stayed in a wonderful ryokan in Kyoto. Meals were included and served in our room (tatami mats, futons, the whole beautiful experience). I have really no idea what I ate most of the time . The presentations were beautiful and exotic and delicious. The "house mother" Taka, who took care of us and served us our meals had a great sense of humor when we were a bit confused by how to eat certain dishes. She gave us a crash course in fine Japanese dining that we enjoyed immensely. No one particular meal stands out, but the whole experience of the food and the learning and the ceremony was great fun. Everything tasted wonderful.

The Hida beef sticks at the Takayama Farmer's Market are the next memorable meal I have. Words cannot describe how good that street food was.

[ElsieD]

I still think of a meal I had in 1972 with my then husband in Oslo, Norway. It was in the hotel dining room and the place was very formal. Strangely, we were one of only a few couples in the place, which was huge. A piano player set the mood and we had reindeer filet, served like a chateaubriand. The meal was served tableside and our initital reaction was that the portions were rather small. We finished our meals and were mightly surprised when our dirty dishes were cleared, the table was completely reset and back came our waiter to serve us our second helpings. How they kept the food hot I don't know but is was as hot and fresh tasting as the first serving had been. The food was wonderful and I still replay that evening in my mind.

The second most memorable meal was in New Hampshire at a place called Inn of the Long Trail or something like that. I remember the house made pickled herring which is the best pickled herring I have ever had. The rest of the meal (whatever it was) I remember as being excellent but it was the pickled herring that was the stand-out.

[chezcherie]

okay, i have two.

the first was in new orleans. i had planned to come with a friend for a last lunch before uglesich's closed, and the friend couldn't make it. so i came by myself.

worth doing.

that evening, i didn't want to sit in the hotel room alone in such a fabulous food city nor did i relish the idea of dining alone. (i have dined alone frequently--in fact, i sometimes prefer to--but not in such a social town. geez, i'm not a pariah..) but i had wanted to try upperline for some time.

so off i went.

the greeting at the door was so warm and genuine, by this lovely southern lady with the silvered upsweep, and once i was seated, i knew i would have no need for the book i'd tucked into my purse in case i needed to become invisible. joanne clevenger (she of the greeting, and the upsweep) came to the table several times to check on me, warmly, but not at all intrusively. she brought over a sheet of her favorite restaurants in the city (what other restauranteur would be so generous?) and generally made me feel as though i were a cosseted regular. the food was amazing. but the evening was theatre. i went from a twinge of dread at the prospect, to having a completely un-recreate-able experience--one i would probably not have had, if i had not been by myself. i felt like i was levitating as i left to wait for my cab, just transported by the meal, the evening, the serendipity. as i stood on the dark street, an imposing figure emerged from the shadows behind the restaurant. it was the chef, ken smith, who had heard from miss joanne that i had a cooking school, and confided that he'd always had an interest in doing that himself. by the time my cab arrived, he's told me a dozen things i needed to do, see and eat before i left the city...which would be in a matter of hours. i don't remember the cabride back to the hotel. i do remember not wanting to brush my teeth before bed, because i wanted the remoulade to linger! it was a truly unforgettable evening...

and the amazing timing of this topic being posted? today, while at iacp in new orleans, i had the pleasure of telling the story to joanne clevenger, her-own-self, as she was a workshop panelist on "how to build a business out of your passion", which she most clearly has.

my second (am i allowed two?) was last year, with my 16 year old daughter, at le jules verne. it was her first trip to paris, and uncle dave was paying for the meal. (thanks, uncle dave!) ducasse had recently taken over, and we had a seine-side table. the wait staff took a shine to her, and pointed out their favorite views and vistas for her approval. she'd bought a little black dress at the outdoor market that morning, which she wore, along with a necklace she'd not been allowed to wear before (gift from uncle dave--thanks uncle dave!). as evening fell, and the shimmer of that beautiful city twinkled in her sweet eyes, in one of those completely out of time and place moments, i caught a glimpse of what she'll be, all grown up. (i hate to be this corny, but my eyes are shimmering with tears at the memory of that). it was beyond the food (which was lovely), the time or place. it was being with my nearly-grown-up youngest child, on the cusp of everything, and on the cusp of the tour eiffel at the same moment. and, it was also the fact that she was enjoying being there with me--parents of teenaged girls, or people who were formerly teenaged girls will possibly relate to this!

wow...writing this post has made me feel like a most fortunate woman.

[haresfur]

Most of my family's reminiscences about growing up seem to involve food, "Do you remember that restaurant where..."

I guess I'm lucky to have too many good memories to include. The first that came to mind though was from a small town on the Italian Rivera when I was 7 years old and camping around Europe with my family. The menu was only in Italian and I ordered the most amazing plate heaped with mussels in a spicy broth. Can't recall if I knew what I was ordering or even knew what a mussel was, anyway. The memory is even better because my vegetable-hating brother wound up with a plate of cold green beans in olive oil.

Actually many of my memorable meals are from Italy, so one more. My wife and I were living in the Washington D.C. area and she had to go to Budapest and Florence for work. Naturally I invited myself along. Florence was sensory overload, so one day we took the bus to Fiesole, which I remembered as a sleepy town in the hills with one restaurant worth visiting. When we got up there it was bustling and well into midday dinner. We found a promising looking place to squeeze into. The owner was charging around making sure his staff were on top of things, providing the grated cheese for my plate, explaining that my wife's dish really didn't need any, "Ok, just a touch". When we finished, the place had pretty much cleared out and he talked with us for quite a while before we left. His shirt was soaked through with sweat.

The crowning moment, though was when he found out we were from D.C. and took us outside the door to show us the Washington Post review of his restaurant hanging in the window! Those of you who know Washington know that just about *every* restaurant has a Washington Post review hanging in the window, even if the review says the food was horrible (naturally his review was very positive).

[Domestic Goddess]

One of my most memorable meals was when my parents brought me and my siblings to a 12-course banquet dinner. It was one of the most sumptous chinese dinner I have ever had. Starting from the first course of delicately wrought dimsums and steamed seafood, then to the mouth-meltingly soft braised beef, and the richness of the veggie dishes.... I thought I couldn't eat some more and then they brought out these huge moray eels coiled up on large platters.

There were eel platters on each table and one really nice Chinese girl sitting on our table told me to sample it. It was a bite of heaven. I had to get a huge chunk of the braised eel and it was mouthwatering delicious! I forgot the other courses that came after that but up to this day I still remember that braised moray eel dish.

Another memorable meal for me was when my family and my parents' friends went to this remote island in the Visayas where there was pristine white sand and sparkling clear water. It was so remote that the fish were not scared of us and would come up to nibble on our toes and the food that we would scatter while sitting on the shore. My parents roasted milkfish, spareribs and pork chops while their friends gathered huge stones crusted with oysters which we baked in the fire where the ribs were roasting. Our rice was packed in banana leaves and it gave the rice this heady scent that meant I would more than 2 servings. It was so rustic, so perfect.

[hummingbirdkiss]

Ruston Way on the Tacoma water front..two of us all alone with 4 fresh dungeness crabs ...lots of newspaper... crab crackers ..paper towels and wet wash clothes......Dos Eques, and Tims Alder Smoke chips

chocolate fudge cake with chcolate fudge frosting and a thermos of coffee with lots of cream for dessert

did I mention it was 9am on a weekday?

[onrushpam]

Two come to mind for me...

(1) Dinner at some less-than-memorable Tex-Mex joint in Kansas City... What made it memorable was the people gathered around the table. 15 or so very good friends gathered from near and far, all on our way to a Jimmy Buffet concert at the Starlight Theatre. The night was perfect. We had SUCH a good time!!! I remember sitting at the table, thinking how very lucky I was to have so many wonderful friends!

(2) Dinner at Elspeth's house. Elspeth is a noted greyhound breeder in England. We had met her once before, but in hectic circumstances. On this night, she prepared a dinner in our honor and invited a few other elders of the greyhound world. In addition to her acumen with the dogs, Elspeth turned out to be a FABULOUS cook and hostess. The food was wonderful and I tasted two items I'd never had before... partridge and treacle tart. All the food was wonderful. I laughed until I cried over Elspeth's stories. I left feeling very, very blessed to have been treated to such a special night.

So, two memorable dinners... one with forgettable food and one with great food... both made memorable by the people at the table!

Pam

[judiu]

Two dinners, same item; a little place on Long Island called Link's Log Cabin, which, in my VERY young days offered a lobster dinner for a bargain price after a certain time. I BEGGED my mom to take me there for this lobster, whidh I craved like nothing else (heaven only knows where I got the taste for it...) and a seafood restaurant in Baltimore Where my natural father took me and my step-mother when I was there over a Spring break. He asked me what I'd like and the word "Lobster" just tumbled out of my mouth.

Both times, I enjoyed the treat beyond reason.

[MoGa]

Unfortunately, some of the best meals I will ever have in my life were given to me at a time when I didn't have the maturity to appreciate them. Not to say that I didn't enjoy them, I just didn't understand how special they were and the near impossibility of being able to replicate the experience later in life.

I grew up in the UK, but every summer, for between 6 and 8 weeks, I was sent to Spain to live with my family there whilst my parents worked in London. I stayed in houses in a small city (Alicante) and also in the country, in farms and on estates. This was in the 1970s and this Spain seemed awfully 'backward' to me, now I look back and I feel immensely privileged.

One uncle had a job managing the estates of a Count (these lands are sadly now a golf course), his salary was the game and vegetables he took from this land. His wife (my aunt) had previously cooked for aristocracy, when he brought back a brace of pigeons she'd know exactly what to do with them. I particularly remember eating the hearts and enjoying their chewy texture.

When this aunt got together with other family members, the results were extraordinary. The whole family and a few friends would get together at someone's country finca (a place with no electricity where the water was drawn from a well). The men would go out hunting, us children would be sent out to get fruit or snails (ones that were feeding on herbs like thyme and rosemary which grew abundantly in the area), and the ladies began preparing the food.

The snails always filled me with 'pena' (made me feel sad). The snails we picked that day would be used on another occasion, the ones which would be used would have been starved for at least a week so that their guts were clear, these were then washed which would make them foam, and the really sad part was when they were taken outside in shallow water. The sun would beat down and warm up the water and the snails would pop their heads out, once that had happened, they were placed over a fire and cooked (if you put them on the fire directly they stay inside the shell).

Sometimes I'd ask to help pluck a chicken (most of my family kept them so this would have been slaughtered earlier that day). When my uncles and granddad returned they'd have freshly killed rabbit. And that's when cooking would start on the chicken, rabbit and snail paella on an orange-wood fire. This was always a noisy affair as each of the ladies would have her own opinions as to the best way to make it - especially when it came to the seasonings, grinding ñora seemed to invoke the most passionate debates.

The resulting rice was incredible, even if I didn't realise just how incredible it was then. Even eating in Albufera restaurants (an area in Valencia famed for its paellas) I've never had anything to touch it. And those family reunion paellas still hold their own as the greatest meals I've ever had against the food I've had in my travels in Europe, North America and repeated visits to Japan.

I might have been 'programmed' during this time. I went back to Spain a couple of months ago and a childhood friend from Murcia made me a simple dish of potatoes, green beans, beans, pumpkin and pear - it was one of the most delicious things I've ever eaten.

Edited April 19, 2008 by MoGa (log)

[Soupcon]

I have two memorable meals. The first one in.............France. I was on my belated honeymoon and we spent three weeks driving around England (a couple of days) and the rest of the time in Europe. Driving north from Spain, through Perpignan and north up the west bank of the Rhone river we stopped for dinner and the night at an auberge I think near Viviers or Le Teil. Can't unfortunately remember the name of the auberge or exactly where it was except it overlooked the river and was overlooked itself by a ruined castle on the hill across the road from it. The auberge had three or four simply furnished rooms to let and a large dining room well populated by locals. The meal was fab. I had never had food like this before and have spent the last 30 plus years trying to learn how to cook like this. We ordered the PRIX FIXE which started with mussels on the half shell, went on to a dish of local sausage and potatoes, followed by a fish course, a meat course, a salad course and a cheese course. The cheese course was accompanied by a local liqueur, green like chartreuse but not chartreuse and quite addicting.

The second memorable meal was at "Au Tournant de la Rivière" just south of Montreal in the townships. A group of us flew from Toronto to Montreal and stayed for the weekend at the Ritz-Carlton - a very old fashioned hotel with tons of character as well as awesome service. Dinner was on Sat night and we rented a limousine to drive us to the restaurant and back. Dinner was fab here as well. Have no idea what I ate but just remember the food was quite out of this world. Mind you this was at least 20 years ago so this restaurant which was the only one in Canada at that time to merit 2 or 3 Michelin stars may have disappeared or have declined in quality by now.