Close your eyes. Imagine the best meal you've ever eaten. Maybe you were in Paris, lingering in a cafe just one block from the chic flat your friend lent you for the week. Perhaps you were in New York or San Francisco, where the chef boasted a Michelin star or three, and each course was perfectly paired with a new glass of wine. The meal might have been enjoyed in a friend's home, your friend who always chooses beautiful ingredients and treats dinner parties as art (which, incidentally, they are).
My best meal? Came from an Igloo cooler, y'all! It was delivered by an angel, to me and my two miserable offspring.