I love a tasting menu. I love the thought and attention that goes into each experience. As a diner, I love relinquishing control over to a kitchen and service team that are going to take me on a journey when I sit down at their table or counter — ideally counter — so I can see the cooks perform. The walls of my home office are covered with framed tasting menus, souvenirs squirreled away in my purse at the end of the night. They mark birthdays, anniversaries, weddings, magnificent Thursday nights floating above all the minarets of Istanbul, relics of restaurants that are long gone and much loved, like wd-50, or Pujol’s first, modest location in Mexico City.