SPLATH!

Simply, the end of a freshly crisped piece of bacon popped into your mouth. "Oh shit"

The 1st sip of a cold IPA, after working 12 hours straight: "Oh shit that's good"

A small piece of Stilton Bleu cheese on crusty baguette ("ooooh shiiiiit), a tempura shrimp ("whoa!"), a perfectly ripe strawberry, fresh squeezed orange juice ("oh man, holy shit that's good"), Haagen Daz chocolate (or coffee!), Cobblestones buffalo tenders ("can we have another order please"), a slow cooked perfectly seasoned BBQ'd Rib....Ohhhhh Shit!

Lately, with Chef Rob Jean having joined moonstones, there are even more "oh shit" food moments.  And don't get me wrong, the list of delicious food is a mile long, and we could on all day with so many items, that elicit "Yum"s and "Wow" And I KNOW we ALL have a list...BUT there are not nearly as many on the list that warrant the true "Oh shit"--said gently..in that disbelieving sort of way..."Can this REALLY be that good?")

This weekend at our 2nd Sunday brunch, the "oh shit" moment came when sampling with my tasting spoon (aka espresso spoon aka "quality control" aka "QC"), the snow-white ball, melting, sitting atop an order of freshly completed Red Velvet Pancakes, (surrounded by REAL Vermont Maple Syrup--pretty perfect stuff itself.)  I "stole" a smidge of what looked to me to be too white to be butter, and yet too firm to be whipped cream. The result?! I tasted what I fantasize would result if butter and whipped cream has a baby--a cute little, bouncey, melty bundle of... Mascarpone Cheese. Oh baby. Oh shit. Cheese o pancakes. Who knew?!

And last week, Chef was preparing a special of Potted Foie Gras Mousse for the evening's meal.  In and of itself, it was pretty damn close to perfect.

BUT...in the preparation process, Chef cubes a couple of pounds of Foie, and gently bakes them.  The result?  Di sized pieces, of melt in your mouth "Oh shit!"

I commented after the first stolen taste, that I could eat 20, like soft, silky, fatty M+m's popped in my mouth one at a time, THEN, suffer the inevitable heart attack that fatty liver by the pound would undoubtedly inspire, and, while falling to the ground, normally one hand clutched to the chest and the other hand extended to break my fall--instead, I left would be reaching for one more bite before meeting the maker!  That good, and from nothing (much) more than nature.  And THAT is what I love about this chef--as he owns one of my all time favorite quotes;

"As a chef, my job is to take the best of what nature offers and try not to fuck it up" - Rob Jean