1. Funky red bean paste dessert. Let me describe this Chinese confection to you, since I don't know the proper name. It uses a sheet-like wrapper derived from tofu to enclose sweetened red bean paste. The packet, sort of like a flat burrito, is deep fried and sprinkled with powdered sugar. It's amazing -- hot, sweet, a bit salty.

2. Shrimp scampi at La Pergola's, North Beach, San Francisco, early 1980s. Yup, you'll need a time machine for this one. Karen and I went back there in the mid-80s, ordered the scampi, and it just wasn't the same.

The key features of die-and-go-to-heaven scampi: fresh prawns cooked to perfection, and a buttery sauce, no skimping on the garlic. This has to be one of the most commonly messed-up recipes, since I am inevitably disappointed.

3. Eggplant parmigiano, Il Giardino Restaurant, Ashland, OR. I make a mean eggplant parmigiano, but mine does not compare to Il Giardino's. Theirs is unparalled for melt-in-your-mouth goodness. I suspect they use Chinese or Japanese eggplant, since your typical fatso aubergine won't turn behave like this, no matter how you coddle it. And, yes, I've tried salting it, rinsing it, and squeezing out all the excess water. No go.

4. Soft tacos, El Grullense, Redwood City, CA. As hard as I try, my soft tacos can't hold a jalapeno to the ones they make at El Grullense. We first ate there in the mid-80s, when they were a hole-in-the-wall place serving food to go, lines spilling out on the sidewalk. Now they're a chain, and as busy as ever. My guess as to the secret ingredient: pork lard, and lots of it.

The perfect soft taco: pork carnitas (or lengua -- beef tongue) on a homemade corn tortilla, garnished with chopped yellow onion, cilantro, salsa, and a squeeze of lime juice.

5. Any sausage at Top Dog, Berkeley, CA. Certain moments in my life have crystallized as images of paradise. One such is the time I ate three sausages in a row at the Top Dog on Durant Ave. It was summer, the sky was that shade of China blue I've only ever seen in the Bay Area, the temperature was around 70, and those sausages (a Polish and a couple of brats, if I know me) slid down the gullet like raw oysters. The counter guy joked I'd need a new stomach. Wrong!

6. Thai seafood hot pot, Berkeley, CA. I don't remember the name of the restaurant, but they've long since closed. This hot pot featured unbearably fresh scallops, prawns, and calamari, all simmered to perfection, along with an exquisite balance of pepper, garlic, fish sauce, and cilantro -- yet another Wonder of the World I have not been able to reproduce in my kitchen.

7. Hazelnut gelato, Vivoli's, Berkeley, CA. Gggrrrhlllhgggrrllhgglarrrrhll. 'Nuff said.

Oh, and the alternate lifestyle wimmen who own and run Vivoli's -- total fantasy material, hairy armpits and all.

8. White sandwich bread, Virginia Bakery, Berkeley, CA. Are you beginning to understand why I miss Berkeley so much? If I won the lottery, first thing I'd do, I'd buy a house in Berkeley, north of the campus.

I went into Virginia Bakery one day and asked the counter gal, "My God, what smells so good?" She had just pulled a tray of white bread loaves from the oven. I couldn't believe white bread could smell so good, so I bought a loaf. "I'm taking this home right now," I said, and she encourage me to try a slice. What, no butter, no jam? Yes, just a dry slice of white bread, and yet it tasted like heaven. Nothing compares.

9. Soft shell crab, New Orleans. I wish I could remember the name of that place -- a converted church, if that rings anyone's bells. Karen and I ordered one helping of the appetizer. The waiter said, "What? Only one?" Um . . . yeah. "But there's only one crab per order," he said. This shocked us, given the price of the appetizer, but aw hell we're on vacation let's splurge and get two.

Two of the BIGGEST mofo soft shell crabs we had ever seen in our lives, each one swimming in its own sea of clarified butter. Needless to say, we had no room left for dinner, let alone dessert.

10. Bread pudding with whiskey cream sauce, Palace Cafe, Santa Barbara, CA. At last, something we have been able to reproduce at home. Karen uses Wonder Bread, believe it or not. If I had a loaf of white bread from Virginia Bakery for Karen's recipe, we would all die with smiles on our faces.

11. Fried clams from the East Coast. Will one of you east-coasters tell me if there are still fast food joints that serve nothing but fried clams and French fries? I remember this from childhood, our occasional voyages of the damned vacations to visit relatives in Boston. Seven Seas, Seven Es, something like that. If you west-coasters and middle-staters have never tested Eastern Seaboard fried clams, you cannot imagine what I'm talking about. Forget about those chewy boogers you get in the frozen food section; these taste like the Platonic ideal of Clamness.

12. Blood pudding in France. I mentioned this on someone's blog recently, but never here. When Karen and I honeymooned in Europe, we tended to order without knowing what it would be. I'm not sure I would have ordered blood pudding knowingly. I remember something savory, spicy, so good I was sopping up the remnants with my bread and wishing for more.

13. Mussels in Paris, in a place across from the Louvre -- also during our honeymoon. I don't think I had ever tasted mussels before, so I didn't know quite what to expect. I've had good mussels since then, but nothing quite as good. There's nothing worse than a bad mussel, and nothing better than a perfect one.

Yippee! I did it. Not a single repetition from previous food posts (I don't think; although, it's hard to imagine I've never raved about Top Dog before on these pages.)

Okay, your turn: what gives you a resounding gastronomic orgasm?

D.

The Thirteen Crowd:

1. Kate Rothwell holds forth on writing;
2. Sleeping Mommy tells us about her health;

3. Joan imagines a bunch of stuff