Nobody forgets their first. Maybe it’s a cheeseburger, a lover, a car, a shitty job, or a dinner at the James Beard House. Maybe it’s beautiful or terrible or it lasts into the dregs of the night, but you don’t forget it, not easily, not in a lifetime. It’s an endless evening of piqued courses amidst weeks that turn up the same surroundings, over and over again. It’s a commercial break from a loop of Groundhog Day. We may be the same idiots we were when we walked into the James Beard House, but we were bracketed by strange and wonderful things.
Continue reading “Feast of the Senses at the James Beard House”