I’m still not sold on the charcuterie.
A platter of artisanal meats of assorted shapes, sizes, origins, and flavors, curated and arranged by a master chef. Waiting to be tasted, savored, and evaluated. Taking your fifty dollars, but not always living up to the hype.
Charcuterie will find you at the beach in December and convince you that Christmas isn’t a real holiday. You’ll be surprised when you don’t think twice.
Charcuterie will push your boundaries in unexpected ways. The quail pâté will certainly leave an impression.
Charcuterie will get better with age as you learn to appreciate its intricacies.
Charcuterie will teach you that some things are meant to be savored. It’s okay if brunch lasts four hours, bleeds into dinner, and fades into happy hour. It’s okay to drink four glasses of wine on a Wednesday so long as you only drink three on Thursday and none on Sunday. Or not. Or not any of those things.
Charcuterie will reel you in and hold you close and tell you this is all there is.
Charcuterie will leave an impression, for better or for worse.
But most of all – charcuterie will leave you hungry, wanting more.