Quick: What’s the most satisfying meal you’ve ever had? I bet you have several. The perfect meal is hard to pin down because they’re all about context. Where are you? How hungry are you? Who are you with? Where did you just come from? What did you do just prior to this perfect meal?
Like you, I have several perfect meals. None of them are fancy. In fact, most are not even technically “meals.” They’re more memorable tastes. For example, whenever I go to Berkeley my first stop bar none is Gordo’s Taqueria, where I sit and eat my black bean, cheese and rice burrito (with just a dollop of sour cream) in a state of complete and silent bliss.
In Santa Cruz there’s a bistro called Gabriella’s that serves fresh figs wrapped in prosciutto…the only possible response to which is delighted, astounded, laughter.
In North London there’s a storefront restaurant with samosas that will render you mute, especially if you haven’t had a bite of Indian food in eight, nine months but have spent every day of that time daydreaming about it.
The crawfish at Felix’s in Orange. The blue fin tuna at Asenabo in Studio City. The egg bagel just out of the oven at 108th and Broadway in NYC. That salt cod and garlic dish a friend made on New Year’s eve 1999. The meat and potato stew my neighbor brought over an hour after I gave birth to my son, at home. A bowl I finished in minutes and literally licked clean, while my neighbor, a big and radiant woman from Kenya, laughed all the way back to her apartment to retrieve the entire pot for me.
Here’s a more recent perfect meal: A grilled cheese sandwich and a pickle. Washed down with a $14 glass of red wine. Tony and I discovered this one at Greenblatt’s about a year or so ago.
Greenblatt’s is a Jewish Deli on Sunset in LA. It’s been there for at least 50 years. It’s got much better food than the more famous Canter’s Deli on Fairfax. As well as a vaunted wine collection. It’s open late and we like to go after a show and slump in a booth and watch the Hollywood people come and go.
One night we were trying to decide what to eat. “Know what I really feel like?” Tony looked over his menu sheepishly.
“A grilled cheese sandwich.”
My last experience with grilled cheese had something to do with a slice of American cheese between two pieces of Wonder Bread. There is a lot to choose from on the Greenblatt’s menu, all of it worthy. So eyebrows were raised. But not for long.
Imagine a place that serves grilled cheese sandwiches for adults…yeah, I know. Tart up a grilled cheese and call it a panini. It’s still just a grilled cheese to me — and that can be more than OK. Tony ordered jack cheese on rye bread. Creaminess with a bite. And then there’s that pickle, which is like a satisfying, final exclamation point. I don’t know how we came to order the $14 glass of wine. A cab out of Napa somewhere. Our waiter, the tall and improbably-named Gide, told us it would be good. And who the hell has a decent wine with a grilled cheese? Well, exactly.
And thus a classic perfect meal was born.
There’s a lot more to be written about grilled cheese sandwiches. They’re popping up all over. In the Williams Sonoma catalog, in the New York Times (which irritatingly cancels its free links within days), to the food blogosphere. There are contests. All sorts of grilled cheese chatter. They’ve also gotten the nod from the heavens. Seems God, some ten years ago, saw fit to affix an image of the Virgin Mary into a toasted cheese sandwich. True believers have been making pilgrimages to see this holiest of grilled cheese in Florida (where else?) until recently, when it was sold at auction on Ebay for $28,000.
I could write a lot more about grilled cheese sandwiches. Even detail my pseudo-successful attempts at making them at home. But not today.
I know you have a favorite meal or two. Let’s hear them.