Food is an ephemeral pleasure at best. It’s made specifically to be consumed, and you certainly don’t want to even look at food that’s been around for awhile. (Unless, of course, it’s the groovy, kitschy plastic variety used to advertise food at Japanese restaurants.)
Still, you’d like the food to last long enough to actually eat it. So, with that in mind, please indulge me in a moment of silence to commemorate the gorgeous Pumpkin-Sage Ravioli I assembled in my culinary school lab on Saturday. I spent hours crafting them as practice making pasta dough, with the intention of cooking them for supper that night. With a browned butter sauce. With a garnish of fried sage leaves.
Oy, the ambition.
As you can see, from the photo, they turned out lovely. I sandwiched them in layers of parchment paper in a sturdy tin, and dusted them with semolina flour. My mouth watered at the thought of eating them. Pity they went all gooey on the long, warm drive home from Hollywood to Marina del Rey. There was no saving them; they were DOA.
A friend of mine suggested investing in a cooler that plugs into the car’s lighter to avert future such disasters. At the very least, a little ice chest seems like a good idea.
Naturally, I grieved for my sad, dead little ravioli. So, in an effort to lift my spirits, my mate and I headed over to the parking lot at The Brig in Venice, where the Kogi Korean BBQ taco truck was parked for the afternoon. The line for this popular fusion of LA taco truck and Korean fare was long, and we weren’t even sure we’d work our way up to the front in time to order. But the food gods were with us this time. After 45 minutes, I eagerly placed our order for Korean Short Rib Tacos and a Kimchi Quesadilla. They were full of comforting flavor, great texture, wonderful spiciness. They went a long way toward making up for the mourned ravioli.
Such is the healing power of Kogi.