So you have crossed oceans and thousands of kilometers, then navigated among the alleys and the old houses to that tiny restaurant. There, they follow an ancient recipe, and they make the best soup in the world.
Stop.. Before sipping that soup, remember.. It could be really the best..
You sipped the soup.. You closed your eye and smacked your tongue. You tightened your lips and smiled to your own self.. This was the best soup you have ever sipped.. The taste is now imprinted in your taste buds.. You will never forget these few seconds.. Suddenly everything around you becomes part of the moment.. The old half-finished walls.. The old wooden chairs.. the old lady cook.
Congratulations.. That was it.. The best soup in the world..
But then.. That was it.. The last soup.. The last moment..
Now every soup tastes “less”.. No soup succeeds to impress.. Your mom’s soup tastes like water and your wife’s soup tastes like “piss”..
Do we really want, to always have the best?
