FoodFash

Adventure Begins in the Kitchen

Archives for February 2010

Eggstraordinary

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A few years ago, he brought over a slab of raw tuna, sliced off a chunk, and said “taste this”.  Oh my goodness, no.  For some reason, eating raw meat that bypassed a restaurant was unfathomable.  After careful convincing that it was indeed more fresh than anything I’ve experienced, I ate it.  Chewing was barely a necessity, it melted, I loved it.  Trust was earned.

So when he offered to bring me eggs produced by his urban yard birds, I accepted without hesitation.  I’m able to pinpoint obvious differences between these eggs and retail eggs: smaller, harder shell, the green one.  Wow, I totally missed my CSI calling.  But other than these subtle differences, are these eggs the same?  Absolutely not.

I go through phases in which I eat eggs for breakfast daily.  The breakfast means nothing to me, it’s breakfast.  But this morning as I ate my eggs, sunny side up on sprouted wheat toast, I smiled.  I know how my eggs came to be.  I know the yard.  I know the farmer.  I was a part of the exchange between the farmer and the consumer and there’s something innately cool about being a part of a process in which you’re able skip the man.

My Mid-Century Life

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I’ve been told a time or ten that I’m deceivingly domestic.  Perhaps my front door is really a time machine – where everything is different upon entering, including me.  My home is defined by mid-century finds, daily home cooked meals, a sewing machine, and rose scented candles.  In other words, I think your grandma’s cool.

I’ve recently purchased a percolator and it’s my newest favorite.  And before I continue, I have to admit that my taste in coffee is comparable to that of red wine – when asked if I enjoy a cup or glass, my answer is merely “yes”, no details.

So yes, I enjoy my percolator.  It makes two to four cups of caffeinated goodness and is pretty enough to serve while suited up in your finest Anthro apron.  With no need for a coffee filter, it’s also a sustainable choice.  Compete with that Mr. Coffee!

I take mine black, but have agave nectar and almond milk on hand for guests.

Grass Roots

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Tampa is what it is, and after returning home from a year in Dallas, I appreciate the “is”.  I’ve never doubted my seemingly lacking city in the food quality department.  And even if you gave me a choice between a Tampa and Dallas restaurant, I’d probably choose Tampa 95% of the time.  Yes, really.  But the other 5%?  My heart aches for Spiral Diner, Cosmic Cafe, and Bliss Raw Cafe.

The only place here that compares in fashion forwardness is Grass Roots.  And it’s not just good because of it’s lone soldierism, it ranks nicely in my theoretical Tampa vs. Dallas game.

I ordered “Sabrina’s Favorite Sandwich” for lunch – raw onion “bread” with raw hummus, avocado, sprouts, lettuce and sheeze.  It seems as though faux cheese and I have a special relationship these days.  Interesting.  But back to the dish, 100% raw and 150% delicious!  The raw onion bread even sparked an interest in adding a food dehydrator to my extensively unnecessary food appliance collection.