Yes, it's true. A couple weeks ago I dined at Talula's Table. (Don't hate me.) Arguably the toughest reservation in the country. In Kennett Square, PA, coined the "mushroom capital of the world," though it doesn't feel like the capital of anything. The town (village really) is tiny and quaint. But the food at Talula's is colossal (in flavor) and enlightened (in concept, method, and presentation). Even words like "ethereal" and "transcendent" fail to describe the experience of sitting around the restaurant's single farmhouse-style table, surrounded by friends and loved ones, enjoying one of the best meals you'll ever have. Sincere thanks to R and E for inviting us to celebrate their anniversary with them. It was a delight!
The menu changes monthly. Here's what we ate. Again, don't hate me. And below are pictures of a few of the courses. I especially liked the barbecue-style duck.
I was a fishmonger in my past life or maybe I grew artichokes. I'm convinced. It explains my present life's fascination with all things food. I cook like it's my job. I eat as if every meal's my last. I've never been one for cooking contests (I leave that to my champion grandparents and Mom) nor eating competitions (damn that overactive gag reflex). I don't have food critic envy nor do I aspire to chefdom. What I have is clinical. Diagnosis: An all-consuming obsession with consumption. Prescription: Know full well.
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