When I go out to eat at a restaurant, there are essentially three possible outcomes. The first, and most desirable of the outcomes, is a form of transcendence. This outcome is, of course, exquisite and occurs when you savor every morsel of food on your plate. It’s when you take the last bit of crusty bread in the basket and soak up every drop of the perfectly balanced sauce left on your plate that is already practically scraped clean. It’s when the flavors combine beautifully in your mouth and you find yourself closing your eyes as you eat just so that you can enjoy the moment and savor every new and complex flavor that crosses your enthusiastic palate.

Needless to say, I love meals like this.

On these nights, K and I will leave the restaurant hand and hand. Wistful already, we might look at one another and say, “That was amazing!” Or, we might say nothing at all for fear that talking about the food might somehow take us farther away from the experience still lingering on the tongue. These, of course, are also the times when I file away every tasty detail in my mind so that I may provide a complete account to the next person who asks me for a restaurant recommendation. I welcome the question because it allows me to relieve the experience time and time again.

Unfortunately, such occasions are rare.

The more common restaurant scenario is a lot closer to indifference. Most meals are edible, but fairly unremarkable. Many are eaten out of convenience whether we cannot cook because we do not have the time or do not feel like cooking for any number of reasons. On these occasions, we leave the restaurant still possibly holding hands, but forgetting our meal moments later. We might return to the restaurant if we are desperate. However, our return will not be a glorious one. It will not be an occasion to celebrate, but a meal to be eaten because we must sustain ourselves.

The third possible scenario isn’t pretty at all. It occurs when a meal disappoints in every way. The wait might be too long to eat and my blood sugar drops to a point where I am shaky and ill-mannered. The food might be cool because the plate sat unattended waiting for a waiter or waitress to escort it to you. The meal might be poorly executed with bizarre flavor components or, worse, no flavor at all. You name it. It can happen.

This third scenario pops up more often than I care to admit. I think it might have a great deal to do with expectations because it is frequently a new trendy restaurant that disappoints in this manner.

This happened to K and recently when we decided to join new friends at a trendy restaurant serving a chic version of Cajun comfort foods. We were excited because the menu, although inordinately huge, had lots of wonderful options including lamb ragout. Lamb ragout immediately struck me as the perfect cure for my goosebumps on a dreary Seattle evening.

I ordered my meal with vigor and eagerly awaited its arrival. We chatted with our friends and munched on some disappointing appetizers including soggy fried okra. I nearly cried when I saw the poor like okras killed in this manner. However, I was not dismayed entirely. My meal was on its way and I maintained my excitement.

Then, moments later, disappointment struck. My meal was placed before me and I immediately knew something was wrong. There was no steam piping off my plate. It was cool to the touch. The color looked a bit off too. Was it purple? When I swirled the noodles and ragout around my fork and launched a heaping pile of it into my mouth, I was instantly sad. The pasta and lamb ragout were lukewarm, but, more significantly, the ragout was too sweet. Perhaps too much tomato paste? Perhaps they added real sugar in an effort to cut the acidity of the tomatoes?

I suppose I will never know exactly why the flavors in my meal did not come together properly. I was disheartened to say the least. We did not leave the restaurant holding hands and merry. I left feeling unsatisfied. I left wanting lamb ragout. I wanted it bad. This, I find, is the biggest problem with the third scenario. A bad restaurant leaves me with a craving for a meal that didn’t live up to expectations.

Weeks passed and the memory of the trendy new restaurant grew dim. The craving for lamb ragout, however, did not. It grew stronger and I finally had to give in and find an easy way to make it at home. After all, Fall is just around the corner. The days are growing cooler and there is no better way to warm your insides than with a hearty plate of lamb ragout.

I think you will enjoy it too especially if love a meaty pasta dish. I know I do. K and I lived on this dish for two days, which serves 4. It was rich, but not overpoweringly so. It was hearty and had the perfect balance of savory sauce to meat without entering the cloying territory of the sad restaurant lamb ragout.

In the end, I can tell you that I am not sorry I went to that restaurant. We were in good company and had a wonderful time, but, even more importantly, it gave me the incentive to create this delicious dish at home.

Lamb Ragout

2 small shallots, diced finely
1 medium carrot, finely shredded
2 tblsp. olive oil
1/2 tsp crushed red pepper flakes
1/2 tsp fresh chopped thyme
1/2 tsp fresh chopped rosemary
3 cloves garlic, finely sliced
1 lb. ground lamb
1 can (28 oz) diced organic tomatoes
2 tblsp tomato paste
1 tblsp unsalted butter
sea salt, freshly ground pepper to taste
1 lb rigatoni or other pasta of your choice

In a large pan, heat the garlic and olive oil over medium heat until just fragrant, about 2 minutes. Add the shallots, carrots, thyme, red pepper flakes, and rosemary and cook until wilted and soft, about 5 minutes. Add the lamb meat and cook until brown with no remaining pink parts of the meat, about 10-15 minutes. Add the tomatoes and tomato paste.

Simmer the mixture over low heat for about 15 minutes to help combine the flavors.

In the meantime, boil the noodles in a large pot of well-salted water until al dente. Drain the pasta, reserving 1/2 cup of the cooking water.

Add the cooking water to the lamb ragout along with the pat of butter. Stir. Season with salt and pepper. Serve over warm pasta.