Sunday Supper: Taco Omakase
The apprehensiveness present on a bus full of strangers heading down country roads, some gravel, to a unknown location was immense. A collective sigh of beauty arose when the bus finally reached its destination on the uphill side of a home, overlooking a private pond skirted with tall green trees, illuminated by the last sunlight streaking beneath the stark grey sky of a looming storm.
It sounds much like the beginning of a novel, maybe a horror story, maybe not. But, in reality, it was the beginning of another adventure, unlike any other, that is Sunday Supper in Columbia, Missouri.
The unknown is part of the fun, maybe most of the fun for some. The unknown location. The unknown menu. The unknown strangers turning into friends throughout the night. With only a time and place to be, the unknown becomes the first main character in what Chef Amanda Elliot and Chef Ben Hamrah create with these monthly events.
When the call goes out in email newsletter form that another Sunday Supper is on the horizon, the replies start streaming in. The only guarantee to a seat is to be the first to respond and take claim to a piece of the adventure that Peachtree Catering is creating.
A confirmation email a couple of days before alludes to more specifics, but remains purposefully vague.
The second character to the night is the food.
May’s dinner was promised to be full of Tacos and Tequila…and surprises. From the perspective of Feast Native, it sounded like going home to Arizona.
The tequila and mezcal pours were frequent, the tacos were served one after another, each different and each with a touch of excitement. Elotes began the meal, chased by stuffed squash blossom fried golden in a masa batter. Taco, Taco, Torta, Taco, Taco, Dessert. Lamb. Barbacoa de Lingua. Rajas. Al Pastor. All were great. All left a little more of the unknown behind, becoming more familiar than we ever expected.
But what about the surprises? How about a Concha to take home and a few mentions of special ingredients used throughout the night that we probably would avoid at a normal restaurant. But, when you trust the people creating the dishes, you go along with it even though they snuck beef tongue and culinary grade ants onto our plates. We’ll be back and waiting attentively again for the next email to hit our inbox full of more of the unknown.