What’s a meal that you will never forget?
It could have been something very simple or very extravagant, something very exotic or very ordinary.
My guess is that one of the reasons you remember it so well is because of the state of mind you were in while you ate it.
Did the meal help you feel alive, grateful, and present enough to savor it?
One of my good friends said that the finest meal he’s ever eaten was a Power Bar on mile 20 of a trail marathon.
Yes!
If you’ll indulge me, I’d like to tell you about one of my finest meals.
One afternoon in late May of 2018, Seneca, Elio, and I were bumping around in the back seat of a narrow, convertible taxi, a unique car that could best be described as a convertible shrunken limo, whizzing around the hairpin turns and serpentine roads on the island of Capri along Italy’s Amalfi Coast, the wind dancing through our hair, the scent of the late spring leaves on the olive olive trees wafting by our nostrils, the taste of the salt air on our tongues, when our taxi driver, a local guy—great driver and pleasant as the day is long—dared to avert his eyes from the sinuous route to briefly meet my eyes in the rear-view mirror to ask, “Where are you staying?”
I named our hotel and he smiled. “Well, certainly you’ve been to Da Gelsomina, their restaurant up the road, yes?”
“What? The hotel is amazing but they also own a restaurant?”
“Oh, yes. It’s the best restaurant in Capri. The family that owns the hotel has also owned this restaurant for many years. You cannot pass it up,” he said with his winning smile and went back to navigate the narrow streets.
Such gastronomical intel was pure GOLD, especially coming from a Capri local who knew every nook and cranny of this mediterranean island.
Once at the hotel, we lost no time making reservations for Da Gelsomina. They even had a private van to shuttle us back and forth from the hotel.
That evening, when we arrived at Da Gelsomina, we stepped out of the shuttle—another curious looking vehicle which looked like someone put a van in the dryer on too high a heat and it came out about ¾ the size of a normal van—and we were expecting a normal or even an elegant restaurant but found ourselves instead standing at the gates of the Garden of Eden.
As we walked by the pool we paused for a moment to drink in the surroundings. The burnt orange sun was dripping into the sea and glimmering off the rich turquoise green ocean. The estate was shaped by several flower and herb gardens bursting with every color imaginable. Old forests surrounded the property giving it a cloistered feeling. Already fireflies were winking their lights in the shadows as the alluring scent of late spring’s blossoms perfumed the twilight.
We walked a bit further and we spied neat rows of their vineyard, vines heavy with bunches of bulbous grapes almost ready for harvest. A little bit further and we saw an immense vegetable garden where undoubtedly they sourced their produce.
Eventually, we pulled ourselves from this visual splendor and made our way to the restaurant. A kind host led us to our table which had been reserved for us with a small sign written in elegant script.
Our server was named after her grandma, Gelsomina, who had begun the restaurant many years previous and upon her esteemed recommendation, we ordered a caprese salad (hello?! home of the caprese salad, mozzarella, basil, fresh olive oil, amazing!), a few fresh fish dishes (when in Capri …), and some homemade ravioli and tagliatelle dishes with pesto and fresh garden vegetables. And of course a few glasses of their house wine.
On their website, they describe their food as follows:
“Da Gelsomina serves traditional island dishes like "ravioli capresi" made with majoram and caciotta cheese, "spaghetti alla chiummenzana" with garlic, tomatoes, and olive oil, "pollo al mattone", and rabbit cacciatora.”
Can you practically taste this?!
Oh, and have you tasted the difference between fresh, homemade pasta vs. pasta from a box? They really should have different names because the contrast is so stark.
The meal was—EXTRAORDINARY! Unforgettable. Every dish cooked to perfection. The flavors were delicious and delicate and decadent.
One of the things that made this meal so remarkable was the veritable sense of terroir, you know the direct flavor of the land. You could taste the flowers, the grasses, the trees, the ocean. Because most if not all of the meal was created on that property (sure, the fish were from the sea just below, work with me), everything even down to the glass of wine shared a thread of flavor and a quality of spirit.
We booked again for the following evening.
And since I was just about to host a yoga retreat along the Amalfi Coast at nearby Sorrento, I made plans to take a boat excursion from Sorrento over to the island of Capri, yes to get a little ocean splash on our faces, yes to see the island, but if I’m really honest, I wanted to go just so I could share these alluring flavors and the scenery of this very special place with my group.
Less than a week later we were back at Da Gelsomina but this time with the entire retreat in tow for a sweet, sweet repeat.
Minds and taste buds BLOWN.
Fortunately, my good friend and pro photographer Reed Rowe was with us snapping pics between bites of fresh pasta.
I still have spots left in my Amalfi Coast retreat happening May 27–June 2, 2023 where through yoga, meditation, Yoga Nidra, and terroir, we will be cultivating the presence necessary to learn to enjoy any meal, experience, or moment. We’ll be learning to savor life itself in the inimitable scenery and spirit of the Amalfi Coast, Italy.
And yes, we will be going back to Da Gelsomina.
What’s a meal that you’ll never forget?
I’d love to hear all about it.
You can post it in the comments of the blog so others can read it too. That or respond to this email and tell me all about.
Then call your bestie and sign up for this Amalfi retreat.
Also check out Da Gelsamina’s site to see the pics on their site. DAAAmmnn!