I am befuddled by people who don’t like food. It’s partially why I hate the term “foodie” so much – who doesn’t like food? Who among us isn’t a “foodie”? But I guess it’s fair to note that some of us care a bit more than others. Not just fuel to keep us alive, food is beauty and art and love, all rolled into one. A perfect meal can be as emotional as a first kiss or a last goodbye.
Which is why I found myself sitting in Frida restaurant last week, barely able to hold back the well of tears.
Having just eaten what might possibly be one of the best meals of my life, I found myself clinging to Chef Pilar Cabrera Arroyo’s hand, unable to let go, uttering “thank you” over and over again. Yes, I’d had a fair amount to drink, including a gourd of mescal, but the sheer brilliance of Cabrera’s 30-ingredient authentic Oaxacan mole will likely remain one of the highlights of my food writing career.