Cork: Hot in every way
EACH night, before popes fall asleep, they pray fervently for the grace to some day attain the level of omniscience and infallibility that is the sole preserve of food critics and restaurant reviewers. We may admit to owning a copy of the gargantuan Larousse Gastronomique (the culinary encyclopedia) but only on the understanding it was long ago committed to memory, back when the taste of mother’s milk still lingered fresh on the tongue. Or so we would like you to believe.
You could pass a lifetime learning yet master no more than a fraction of the subject matter when it comes to food and only the brassiest of necks can deliver epicurean nuggets freshly purloined from Google, while passing them off as wisdom acquired at Nonna’s knee, high in the foothills of whatever cuisine we are discussing on the day.
