This was Mrs. O's declaration after I said, "You know, the waffles are really good with some of that apple butter and blue cheese on top."
Oh no. Have I really become that person? Am I that friend that you describe as a "foodie?" I am contemplating this as I slather ramp pesto on top of organic goat cheese and spinach flatbread from the Greenmarket. (Yes, ramps are long gone, but I froze some of the delicious pesto I made in May.)
Okay, okay. I get it. I do. I go a little above and beyond sometimes... with the food and drinks thing. The fact that I'm still thinking about the jalapeno-infused green chartreuse I had weeks ago at Macao Trading Co. is proof. (By the way, the first drink of that evening was the Drunken Dragon's Milk, a beautiful, tall, frothy concoction of green tea vodka, young coconut, basil and five-spice bitters--yes! five-spice bitters!).
There are other signs of course. Perhaps one day I'll list them out just for fun.
But, lest you ever suspect that I am getting too big for my gastronomic britches, let me just share this...
Saturday was a DB3 baby shower to celebrate the imminent arrival of the addition of 1 to DB2. About an hour before Mrs. O's declaration, I was at the 'bar' spicing up a virgin Bloody Mary. I picked up the black pepper dispenser and thought, 'How odd! There's a stopper over the grinder. Much more cumbersome than a simple lid.'
This would have been the moment when, in most cases, common sense would intervene. But no...
I pulled off the stopper, turned over the grinder, and before I could even twist my wrist in the fanciest of foodie moves, the peppercorns came spilling out into the drink.
Who does this? Surely not a foodie. Maybe a gastronomically obsessed lush who is also a bit of a klutz. (My mother put me in ballet class at age 3 following advice from the pediatrician, who thought it might instill just enough grace to allow me to walk across an entire room without falling down. It seems to have worked, but it took a few years.)
My home pepper grinder is one of those grocery-store buys... You have to remove the plastic top, turn it upside down and twist. Most fancy pepper grinders only require two steps: pick up and twist. See? What kind of foodie am I that I don't have a fancy pepper grinder?
You can think about this and let me know. You might also note that I promised to pickle this summer, and I have failed--with the exception of ramps and fiddleheads way back when.
Before I leave you, friends, I went for a walk today in Prospect Park and happened upon the prettiest berry stems. I know not whether they are edible, though I doubt it. I saw the chipmunks eating other berries but not these!
Oh no. Have I really become that person? Am I that friend that you describe as a "foodie?" I am contemplating this as I slather ramp pesto on top of organic goat cheese and spinach flatbread from the Greenmarket. (Yes, ramps are long gone, but I froze some of the delicious pesto I made in May.)
Okay, okay. I get it. I do. I go a little above and beyond sometimes... with the food and drinks thing. The fact that I'm still thinking about the jalapeno-infused green chartreuse I had weeks ago at Macao Trading Co. is proof. (By the way, the first drink of that evening was the Drunken Dragon's Milk, a beautiful, tall, frothy concoction of green tea vodka, young coconut, basil and five-spice bitters--yes! five-spice bitters!).
There are other signs of course. Perhaps one day I'll list them out just for fun.
But, lest you ever suspect that I am getting too big for my gastronomic britches, let me just share this...
Saturday was a DB3 baby shower to celebrate the imminent arrival of the addition of 1 to DB2. About an hour before Mrs. O's declaration, I was at the 'bar' spicing up a virgin Bloody Mary. I picked up the black pepper dispenser and thought, 'How odd! There's a stopper over the grinder. Much more cumbersome than a simple lid.'
This would have been the moment when, in most cases, common sense would intervene. But no...
I pulled off the stopper, turned over the grinder, and before I could even twist my wrist in the fanciest of foodie moves, the peppercorns came spilling out into the drink.
Who does this? Surely not a foodie. Maybe a gastronomically obsessed lush who is also a bit of a klutz. (My mother put me in ballet class at age 3 following advice from the pediatrician, who thought it might instill just enough grace to allow me to walk across an entire room without falling down. It seems to have worked, but it took a few years.)
My home pepper grinder is one of those grocery-store buys... You have to remove the plastic top, turn it upside down and twist. Most fancy pepper grinders only require two steps: pick up and twist. See? What kind of foodie am I that I don't have a fancy pepper grinder?
You can think about this and let me know. You might also note that I promised to pickle this summer, and I have failed--with the exception of ramps and fiddleheads way back when.
Before I leave you, friends, I went for a walk today in Prospect Park and happened upon the prettiest berry stems. I know not whether they are edible, though I doubt it. I saw the chipmunks eating other berries but not these!
Comments
Post a Comment