When we were in Kansas City recently we visited the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art, a truly splendiferous place that we had missed out on the last time we came through town because we got delayed at Arthur Bryant’s Barbecue. (Also because we got going rather late that morning.) Anyway, if you’re ever in the area you really should go. It’s free, and one of its major draws is that it has one of only two castings of Ghiberti’s “Gates of Paradise.” There’s even a video that shows how they installed the thing. (We knew nothing about this ahead of time, of course, in our time-honored tradition of bumbling and stumbling upon things of wonder. We walked in and got to the bottom of the ramp that leads up to it, and I said, “Those are Ghiberti’s doors!” So I guess I get full props for recognizing them.)
But that’s not my point for this post. Instead, I want to focus on what is truly important there: the excellent coffee they serve at their café. It’s very difficult to get good coffee on the road—and please don’t tell me to go to Starbuck’s! I was dying for a good cup after the colored water they’d served at the hotel breakfast, so I decided to try them out, asking for my usual “shot in the dark,” which is a cup of regular coffee with a shot of espresso in it. (Be sure that if you ever order this item you spell out exactly what you mean. Since it’s not on the usual menu the baristas don’t necessarily know what it is, but they don’t always want to admit that. I’ve had some very disappointing SITDs and now make sure I’m clear.) Well! I could tell it was going to be good because of the espresso foam on the top: “The strong presence of crema in an espresso shot indicates a quality, well-ground coffee and a skilled barista (professional coffee maker). Crema helps give espresso a fuller flavor and longer aftertaste than drip coffee.” I sat down and took my first sip. My goodness! Coffee nirvana. (But I’m not going to spend $800 for an espresso machine. The coffee I make at home is pretty good, too.)
Here’s the thing: I enjoyed every molecule of that coffee, but then I was done. Its strong, almost winey flavor meant that there was an automatic limit to how much I could ingest. There was no temptation to order a second cup, as the first one was so completely satisfying. This principle applies to food in general: The more deeply-flavored food is, the less you’ll want, not because it tastes bad, but because it tastes so good. Does that make sense? I’m becoming more and more convinced that a big factor in overeating is bland food. Because it’s bland, you keep eating it in the hopes that it’ll add up to something. Does that make sense? But food that forces you to pay attention to it is going to have a built-in limit of consumption.
Bland food, and also sweet food, is the enemy of mindful eating. There’s nothing to be mindful about! So tonight for dinner I’m thawing out some pork tenderloin I had on hand and am making a sauce for it with Kalamata olives, capers, garlic, sun-dried tomatoes, and preserved lemons. I’ve found a few recipes online that give some basic proportions. Stay tuned for a recipe tomorrow or the next day. Or perhaps I should say “sort-of recipe.” More a list of potential ingredients and some kind of technique.
Help stamp out boring food!
PS. Have you found that some recipes aren’t showing up on this site? I’ve had to re-do them all manually since the recipes didn’t import from my hospitality blog, and it’s a surprisingly slow process (and boring). So if you ever follow a link to a recipe post and don’t find it, go to my site Intentional Hospitality and do a recipe search there. I’m working on getting the recipes I consider to be worth the effort fully transferred over to this site. Either way, you should be able to find what you want.