"Are you enjoying the flavors?" he asked. Though coming at it from an unexpected angle, the question was phrased just right. Not "How do like your food?" or "Are you pleased with your selections?" and certainly not "Are your entrees prepared correctly?" As if we would know. We were hardly familiar with the preparations -- let's see, when was the last time I made a black bean mole sauce for my grilled shrimp, or tried my hand at pickled jicama shavings, or the ahi-tuna and mango ceviche? No, his question in the early phases of our luncheon at Rick Bayless' Topolobampo restaurant was exactly on point: the flavors were why we were there -- all the way down to the sweet and savory goat milk caramel sauce with a hint of cinnamon poured along with the raspberry sauce over the plantain crepes withe sprinkled crushed pecans.
Flavors, delightfully outside of my routine.
We watched a young teenaged boy at a table nearby, dining with his mother, tasting first the guacamole, then the ceviche trio. Not eating as though simply to consume, but carefully tasting each bite -- as if to notice the flavors that were there. He impressed us -- and I suppose chastened us a bit. He seemed already to have learned what we too often forget. By his inspiration we, too, took another bite; more respectfully this time; and slowly, attentively, appreciatively tasted.
And then left to take a long and necessary -- and savoring -- walk.
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