An homage to the Good Things:

So the other night as I sat at another well-regarded restaurant, an establishment far fancier than My Favorite Restaurant, having just enjoyed a foie gras terrine, frog legs “tempura,” veal “au poivre” and a brown butter pear tart, each an imaginatively-prepared dish both pleasing to the palate and to the eye, consisting, I am sure, of only the finest and freshest ingredients, turned out with interestingly unexpected juxtapositions, imaginative touches you remember the next day, even if you’re not a foodie, I was certain, as good as this place was, it wouldn’t come close to beating, or even meeting, my esteem for My Favorite Restaurant.

And it occurred to me, as I sat there, that the difference between My Favorite Restaurant and this fancy place, and so many other fancy places associated with great food, was that My Favorite Restaurant makes the everyday extraordinary, the mundane memorable, the rarest of feats, for it requires a combination of ingredients that usually don’t mix well together: genius and humility

I’ve been trying to say this for years.