Later On

Last night I had a wonderful dinner: the marinated hanger steak, fresh asparagus (farmer’s market) sautéed in olive oil with sliced spring onion (ditto), a brie with fresh strawberries (each the size of a peach, but with intense flavor) from the farmer’s market, and ending with a lovely sauterne. I feel like I was living at the peak of the pig (beyond high on the hog): it doesn’t get any better.

The recipe note: The sautéed asparagus and spring onion was okay but, truthfully, mediocre. I complained to The Wife, saying that it might need more salt (which I am avoiding as much as possible).

As I pondered the pan, it occurred to me that vinegar might work. So I splashed on a little sherry vinegar, and oh my! the result was wonderful.

I thought to myself that it had really been good all along, but just needed the vinegar to point up the taste.

That turn of phrase reminded me of the synesthete who first attracted Richard Cytowic’s attention, thus leading to the book The Man Who Tasted Shapes (which I blogged earlier): the guy was, as I recall, fixing a salad dressing and wondered aloud whether it needed more “points”, by which he meant an acidic taste (lemon juice or vinegar).

I immediately wondered whether my thought that the vinegar “pointed up” the taste was from this usage, or independent. On reflection, I realized that the taste of vinegar is often called “sharp,” so perhaps the synesthete in question was just experiencing the physical aspect of a metaphor already in use, or perhaps that we all are to some degree synesthetes and consider acid tastes “sharp”.

I don’t recall how the guy experiences oil, but what shape do you think of when you think of oil (in cooking: olive oil, for example)? I would bet any money that you think of a round shape. Maybe synesthetes simply experience more overtly what we all experience.