"I won’t describe what we actually ate in any real detail. I suppose the point of this entire piece is that it’s futile to try. That’s the same trap and thankless challenge into which many writers much more talented than I am have fallen. At its essence, the experience of Noma—what makes it really, really wonderful—is a physical one, physical both in the sense that it is food one is ingesting and physical in the sense that food being ingested in a specific time and place. Noma is the bunch of blue-aproned chefs who gather to greet you as you walk in, piling on top of each other as in a high school photograph, face beside face above face. It’s the high summer early evening sunlight filtering through the windows, reflected off the water onto the brick interior walls. It’s an almost physical sense of opening, to the experience, to the world, spurred by the knowledge that this sensitivity shall be rewarded."