As an adult, I’ve gradually started learning to like a lot of things I never really was interested in at all as a child or teen. These things range from oysters (raw and cooked), stinky French cheeses (I love blue cheese now!), mustard (I especially like the French mustards… American mustard is still pretty boring to me), fois gras, and now, caviar. Caviar is one of those things that I’ve enjoyed the very few times I’ve had it, but I cannot really say that I fully appreciate it enough to say, spend $120 on a little tin of it every other month. Chris took me to L’Appart, an intimate Michelin-star rated French restaurant downtown in Brookfield place, to celebrate my birthday tonight, and one of the things they are known for is their caviar selection as a course you can choose before the actual tasting menu. The French caviar was served in its tin on ice, along with four long brick-like Brioche toasts that oozed with buttery richness, and a log of different toppings ranging from whipped avocado, hibiscus-pickled cippolini onions, to a chive-specked creme fraiche.

Each bite of caviar, on a spoon made of pearls, no less, was creamy, a bit briny, and decadent. I don’t know how we as human beings decided that fish eggs would be such an expensive delicacy, but I could certainly get used to enjoying this every now and then as a pure indulgence. Who knows what nutritional value these things have, anyway?

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