Hello, my friends. I am here to admit to you that I may have a slight problem. I dreamed about gnocchi last night.
Not just once, but three times. THREE times. Gnocchi was part of three different dreams. Once I had made it (go me!), once it was offered at a cafeteria (um, ok) and the last time I was taking it to someone’s home and I was trying to keep the dog from eating it (No, Charley! Leave it!). THREE dreams. Clearly, I need more therapy.
I’m afraid I may need an intervention. Or I just might have to go to Taste and live in the corner of the room and have them bring me gnocchi every hour on the hour until I can get past this…this…obsession? flirtation? fixation? lust? on/for the gnocchi they serve there.
Seriously, who dreams about gnocchi?
But this gnocchi was far superior to any I’ve ever had before. It wasn’t dense little pillows of potatoey pasta goodness (which I love, btw), this was the lightest, most delicate (delicate! no one ever uses the word delicate when describing gnocchi!), softest down pillows of pasta. This is the gnocchi that angels in heaven make from clouds and enjoy on a daily basis. This is the gnocchi that enchanted me and hijacked my dreams last night. This gnocchi quite literally (really literally, not the fake literally that you hear so much about these days) melted in my mouth.
I wonder what time Taste opens today…
The dinner afterward at Niche was absolutely delicious too, but somehow I’ve been seduced by those tender, soft, delicate, amazing dumplings of goodness. If it’s wrong, I don’t want to be right.
One more note, if you ever get a chance to drink Beaux Freres Pinot Noir, please do so. It’s a beautiful wine.