Hidden
There are no secrets anymore. Everything is on every travel platform. Post about it, it’ll pop off. The convenience this affords also creates sameness. Others have written about it, but it doesn’t change the simple fact of the thing.
And so the good stuff is always hidden, out of the way, a little arcane. I think sometimes of a spot an hour’s drive away from San Jose that I drove to, called Casa Azul, that a friend recommended to me. I booked a table, but I was the only one there the whole time, on a Thursday night, with no music playing, and it occurred to me that if I hadn’t booked a reservation, would they even have bothered opening? That sort of place.
They still killed it. I ordered, 20 minutes later my food came, and it was the best meal I had had my whole time in Costa Rica, which is saying something. Searching the web for “casa azul costa rica” yields no out-of-the-way restaurant as of press time. Adding “restaurant” gives it to you. So, not hidden, but hidden enough, which these days is still something.
Last week, my partner & I went to Palm Springs, because it’s very cold outside here; and we went to Joshua Tree, because that’s what you do when you’re staying in Palm Springs and own a National Parks passport. We were meal planning, and they were running through recs in a travel guide: “This lesbian couple quit their day job t—“ “WE’RE GOING.” No bad restaurant ever began with that description.
It was the only sign of life for a half-hour drive in any direction. We had to book a reservation in advance, and this time we really needed to. It is not a secret. It was packed with a waiting area. It is listed. But it is also out of the way, requiring effort, an hour’s drive from the park direction. It was outstanding, the best meal I’ve had in months, and I don’t exactly eat boring.
What makes the food taste better? Is it the effort? Is it a well-kept secret? Is it the experience of being in a place? Or maybe it’s just that you’re surrounded by food system in all directions, and in many cases you can just wander over and pick stuff. Living in cities, we forget all of this, and we just need the reminder. That comes off as “hidden” to algorithms, but it also points to something more pure-feeling, a way of living with & from the land.
There is an element of directionlessness to the collective consciousness right now, as we all brace for the apocalypse that is already here. We are all consumed with trying to find something that’s “better”, trying to envision new futures, nobody really agreeing on what that should look like. In the meantime, there are people out there just connecting with the earth, working, practicing, hidden.