Ten years ago this month, I was on The Today Show. They flew me up, put me in a hotel across the street from Rockefeller Plaza and it was an incredible, amazing time. I met my friend Jan during that segment, and we have been friends, ever since. I got to see the city all lit up and decorated for Christmas and wander the streets of New York alone and mesmerized as a Nashville girl in the Big City. The driver sent by the show to pick me up at the airport was such a nice man. He picked me up in this huge, black SUV and opened the backseat door for me at the airport, but I asked, “May I sit up front with you so I can see everything?”
He asked me what I was doing for The Today Show, and I told him I was part of a “holiday recipe contest” and he told me all about his wife and her love for cooking, and his mom and her love for cooking, and we shared such a bond of our love for feeding people. He showed me all around New York; he drove me through Queens and The Bronx. He drove me all through the city, pointing out areas where he grew up, where he likes to eat, and told me not to be afraid of crime or terrorists. He said since 9/11, more police and more federal agents were on the streets than ever before, and that while I would see some in uniform, many were plain-clothes men and women, walking around, keeping everyone safe.
We had a rehearsal the evening before the live show, and then I wandered back to the hotel. My stomach began growling, so I wanted to find something to eat. I walked into the place next door, but quickly saw it was a bar and a nightclub, so I turned around and left. I went back to the hotel and asked the lady at the front desk to recommend a place for me to eat dinner. She rattled off a few places, but then I asked her, “Where would you eat? Where is one of your favorites?” She asked me, “What are you in the mood for? Steak? Chinese? Italian?” In that moment, for some reason I knew Italian was the only correct answer. “Italian!” I said. She wrote the name of the restaurant and the address on a piece of paper for me and said it was even on the same street, just several blocks down, did I mind a brisk walk? “Not at all!” I told her.
I knew I was in for a treat. I just didn’t know the extent of that treat or that it would be a night I would remember for the rest of my life. I was already excited because this kind lady told me, “You’ll never find better Italian food than this!” My mouth was watering and I had not even left the lobby of my hotel. I walked the distance and was just so excited to be there. This was during such a difficult period in my life. My life was consumed with sadness and turmoil and being in New York was an escape from my reality at home. I just wanted to breathe it all in, and savor every moment.
Now, something about me that is quirky … I hate to eat alone. I originally planned to pop in a deli, grab a salad or sandwich and take it back to my room, but I knew this was an opportunity I needed to seize. I needed to enjoy the Christmas lights in New York, and have a great meal, even if that meant dining at a table alone.
I was so excited to be in this restaurant and they seated me toward the back, near a window. I had the best of both worlds. No one would laugh at me for being by myself, and I could watch all of the activity in the restaurant as well as "people watch" by the window. I remember ordering a butternut squash ravioli. I don’t remember if this was on the menu or if it was a special that night, but I thought it sounded wonderful. I savored every sip of my glass of red wine and nibbled on the bread brought to my table. It was so warm and so delicious, I had to tell myself, “Aimee, you’ll be mad if you fill up on bread.” So I waited for the main course to arrive.
The first bite of my ravioli, I remember closing my eyes. I will always remember just sitting there thinking, “I never want to forget how good this is.” Before long, a precious, older gentleman from the restaurant came to my table and asked how everything was? I told him it was the best pasta I had ever tasted in my life. He beamed at me and asked me where was I from and what was I doing in the City? I told him I was going to be on The Today Show the next morning and I was hoping this comfort meal would settle my nerves. He smiled and told me to enjoy, and he would be back in a moment. I assumed he would just come to refill my water in a few moments or ask how the meal was, but instead, he brought more plates of food for me!
Y’all know I’m not a very big person. I can eat my fair share of food, sure; but not a huge amount. This precious man told me he wanted me to try the best! So he brought more and more food for me to taste. I tried to say no, and tell him it wasn’t necessary, but as my waiter came to refill my water glass he sweetly smiled and said, “You will insult him if you don’t allow him to spoil you with his favorites!”
I felt so unworthy of this special attention and tried to tell the precious man it wasn’t necessary. He said, “A beautiful woman who delights us with your visit should taste all we have to offer!” I explained my beef allergy, and he asked if I could eat seafood? I told him yes, but I was filling up and he did not need to do this for me, but he insisted I at least try a bite of what he brought to the table.
For ten years I have tried to remember the name of that restaurant. When I was in New York a few years later for my Better TV segments, I could not for the life of me remember the name of that restaurant. It wasn’t until a couple of weeks ago I asked my friend Jan if she remembered the name of the hotel where we stayed? I figured if I could find that, I could look at a map and track down the restaurant. Jan came through. She remembered, so I was able to find the restaurant.
Azalea on West 51st Street. I contacted the restaurant to see if they were there in December 2009, and sure enough, I found the precious, sweet spot!
When I think of that night and tell the story to people, it seems to me just a tiny glimpse of what God is like. He wants to bring the very best to each of us, and too often, we resist. We think we know a better way, but we don’t.
“Taste and see that the Lord is good. Oh the joys of those who take refuge in Him!” - Psalm 34:8 (NLT)
What I tasted that night was not only delicious, but the generosity of that precious man brought such joy to my heart. I would be remiss if I did not recognize God’s precious Holy Spirit reminding me, “You ain’t seen nothing yet, kid.” God delivered Michala and me out of the turmoil and brought Terry back into my life. Just as one delicious dish after the next kept arriving at my table, God continues to bring one delicious blessing, after the next into my life. My Terry is of course, better than any pasta meal I could ever devour; but I can now see how similar the stories are. It was a foreshadowing. Just as my stomach could not seem to hold any more delicious pasta, my heart now feels as if it cannot hold any more joy, and it just bubbles over, daily. Yes … my cup runneth over.
I pray you will taste God’s goodness. I want you to imagine Him only wanting to bring His very best to your table. I love the New Living Translation of that verse … “Oh the joys of those who take refuge in Him!”
Just as I felt so unworthy of the attention that precious man was paying me that night … I feel so unworthy of God’s grace He pours out on me. None of us are worthy of it, yet He gives it so freely.
Taste it, today. Taste and see that He is good. He is so good. We will insult Him if we do not allow Him to love on us, lavishly and with such abundant love. Oh the joys!
(And if you’re ever in New York City, make a reservation to eat at Azalea. Tell them you heard their butternut squash ravioli is pretty darned memorable! Edited to add this: Azalea Ristorante)