Gnudi, gnudi, gnudi!

Had lunch at The Spotted Pig today.  You can't get in there at night without an endless wait, but in the daytime it's airy, pleasant, relatively calm.  People in this funky room are laid back, happy, chatting  from one table to the next about what they are eating.

But everyone seems to be eating the same thing.  Burgers, big ones, with Roquefort and huge piles of lacy fries. And even on this absurdly hot day, sheep's milk ricotta gnudi with crumbs of brown butter and crisply fried sage leaves.

One bite and I instantly understood. They seemed to fly up off the plate and float into your mouth where they hovered a moment, like feathers, before evaporating.  And then you were left with crisp shards of sage, a bright green flavor, and the memory of the cheese.  They were so good you found yourself dreamily  putting first one little puff into your mouth, and then another, until you looked down and found that the plate was empty. 

Afterwards we had bowls of cherries on ice, and tiny cups of intense coffee. 

A wonderful meal.