Whenever I pass the butcher counter at the supermarket near home, I stop, even if I came only for fruit. A rib-eye rests on the board, its marbling almost painterly. I simply want to look.
I never expected to find meat this good so close to home. Seared at high heat, dark outside and pink within, its first bite makes me pause. It is better than any restaurant steak I can remember, regardless of price.
Now I look whenever I pass, whether I buy or not. Life sometimes hides its surprises in the places we cross every day and have not yet learned to notice.