Day 5: Write about the best meal you've ever had
The first memory that comes to mind when discussing the best meal I’ve ever had takes place on a rooftop in Jaipur, India. I was 12 years old when we went to India, and looking back, that trip is one of my biggest family regrets, only because I feel as though I was too young to truly appreciate what I was experiencing. I mean this especially in regards to the food. I’m that special kind of weakling that found ketchup to have a kick for a good few years of my life. As you can imagine, I was pretty out of my element here. Still, I did my best, but even doing so I ended up primarily living off of naan bread for two weeks. Which was stupid. And I’ve felt stupid for the past 8 years of my life for passing up the opportunity to try so much more while I had the chance. But I’m getting off topic.
My memory of a lot of the food I had on that trip is very blurry, but this specific meal is still crystal clear to me. The sky was completely clear and the stars were out. The dining area looked over a bustling night market, and the streets were lively beneath us. The restaurant was small and run by a family. I remember not knowing what my dish was when it arrived, because as with most of the restaurants on the trip, I had immediately asked my mom to order me the most mild thing on the menu. There were three round pieces of white cheese smothered in a creamy orange sauce. My clearest memory of the meal was how rich and creamy the cheese was. I’d never tasted anything like it before. I’ve had paneer cheese since, but nothing I’ve tried here has come anywhere close to what I ate on that rooftop. That was the first time I ever remember really enjoying spice, which sounds so ridiculous to say now, but I’d really never experienced something like that meal before. We sat at that restaurant all night basking in the heat and life of the area. As much as I enjoy looking back on this meal, all I wish is that I could go back and do it all again.
The next meal that comes to mind was in France, in a village with 3 restaurants, on top of a mountain. We’d been road tripping from Lyon down to the south coast, stopping at small country towns along the way, and Saint-Michel-l’Observatoire was one of our last destinations before Nice. The town was named after its nationally ranked observatory, and its incredible view of the stars. My favourite memory here, apart from our dinner, was sneaking out in the night to watch the stars from the rooftop while listening to music.
We only spent one night here and we almost didn’t get into the restaurant, as it was full of reservations. We walked down at 8. It had a large, pretty outdoor dining area that protruded onto the street and was filled with jolly laughter and chatter, as most restaurants in France were. It was covered in vines and purple flowers. I don’t even remember how much, or even what exactly I ate that night, mainly because my memory became very blurry after my first couple glasses of rose. We had set meals filled with local cheeses, meats, and fresh vegetables, all sprinkled with lavender from the neighbouring province. I had one of the best, most juicy steaks I’ve ever eaten in my life that night. Or maybe I was just so drunk and happy that I just thought it was the best. Regardless, it was magical. We sat out on that patio until midnight, drinking, laughing and eating until we couldn’t move. Me and my family still talk about that meal all the time.
My most recent, and most significant food memories come with my trip to Japan this past summer. Japanese food has been one of my favourite international cuisines for years, and this was the first time that going to the country, I believed that the food was going to be one of the highlights of my trip. And it was. I could write novels about Japan, and how much visiting that country has altered my life, but I’ll try to keep it brief.
All of the food I had in the country ran miles around anything I’d ever eaten at home, but nothing in the rest of the country even came close to the magic that is Dotonbori street in Osaka. Walking around a boulevard stuffed full of restaurants and food stands that stretches for miles, all while dopey on jet lag, is a sensation I’ll never forget. I can’t even pick out a specific meal from my time in Dotonbori. Every single thing I ate tasted like nothing I’ve ever eaten before. Everything was so fresh, warm and bursting with flavour. A lot of it was prepared right in front of us. The thing that did stick out to me the most about Dotonbori was how the most understated restaurants were some of the best that I’ve ever eaten at.
Dotonbori has a large market for Kobe beef, and the street is filled with flashy restaurants with outdoor grills, advertising their A-cut meat on bright flashing signs that reach up to the sky. We ended up trying the beef at a small restaurant that could seat no more than 10, located in an alleyway beside a department store. It was the most confusing meal that I had ever eaten in my life. I never knew that beef could taste like that. Couldn’t wrap my head around it. It was tender, juicy and soft, but beyond all of that it was sweet. Sweeter than fruit, sweeter than white peach Fanta that I’d been religiously drinking throughout the whole trip. It was a flavour that I don’t think I’d ever be able to experience again, anywhere else in the world. The chef was delighted to see our confused and amazed reactions to what we were eating. Out of all of the highly praised, very popular, flashy and grand sushi restaurants that we saw and tried on the trip, The small, unknown sushi shop we found in an unpopulated, underground strip mall is the one that sticks on my mind the most. The tuna nigiri that I ate there was the single best bite of food I’ve ever had in my life. I’m not exaggerating when I say I find myself thinking about it every single day. Trying Takoyaki for the first time was surreal, desserts always looked like art pieces, and even snacks inside the corner store next to our hotel were amazing. If I could pick any city in the world to eat at forever, I would pick Osaka without a doubt.
The main thing that ties all of my best food memories together are the incredible memories that I have associated with them. I doubt these meals, as delicious as they were, would have been half as memorable without the beautiful scenery, lovely staff, and conversations that accompanied them. But really, what can’t be improved with a good environment and great people? I could write about dozens of other meals that hold the same sentimentality to me, but I’m not trying to write a novel. Maybe one day.
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