Photograph: Beth Levendis

You might expect a food editor to say that foie gras, seared until caramelized yet barely keeping its form, turns me on. Or a perfect local peach, its elastic skin giving way to a juicy, pulpy center. It’s easy to rhapsodize about the usual suspects, but what’s unexpected is where I find the source of my pleasure: It’s not the flavor so much as it is the texture. When it comes to certain foods—the erotically silken fior di latte gelato at Gottino, the buoyant yet melty mochi cubes that grace soft-serve frozen yogurt—the sensation in my mouth registers as prominently as the taste on my tongue. That’s what I end up craving long after the experience has passed.

—Gabriella Gershenson

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