Savoring my best meals

What’s the best part of a meal? Is it the appetizer, salad or piping-hot soup? Is it the main course, made exquisite with the choicest ingredients, the most succulent meat and the most exotic of spices? Or could it be the sweet and (usually) sinful dessert?

It has never been what’s on my plate; it’s always who’s on the other side of the table. Even a dish fresh out of the French chef’s kitchen is no match to the taste of warm and enjoyable company. It’s the long and meaningful conversation, peppered with laughter, seasoned with affection, richly thickened by shared ideas. Ask me to recall my best meals and I will hardly remember what I ate. But I can easily tell you who I was with, what we talked about, how much fun I had. And so it is possible for me to enjoy a meal sitting on a wooden stool by the corner eatery in the same way, or even more, than say, a six-course dinner in an upscale restaurant in Makati.

Last night I had a great meal. It was with a friend who was into numbers, into music, into writing. Over a Thai dinner, we scooped on each other’s plates the latest offerings of life and had a buffet. We blabbered on, listened intently, clarified thoughts, shared sentiments, laughed heartily. It was a filling andsatisfying meal—even if the two dishes we ordered had portions left on them when we stood up to leave.

A meal I’m still relishing even after the taste of curry has long passed my lips.