Taste: Get Some

Such was my response to the ugly poll below and the weirdly enraging salad I had with lunch. What is it with New York City chain-grocery produce? Sometimes it feels more conceptual than edible. I know this isn’t news, but Lord, this pepper: enormous, firm, a beautiful glossy red, but utterly, utterly tasteless. Does a person really need to go to farmers' markets to get produce that tastes of this earth (and not some unsubtle marketing firm)? I have a new understanding of ranch dressing. . .

What You've All Been Waiting For.

Not The Post, but A Post. You'll take what you can get, right?

I have placed Jacob on a plane back to the right side of the country, so am now free to sit at my computer for hours on end, unencumbered by voices saying things like "let's get some cold-brew coffee," or "don't you think we should jump into the Pacific Ocean right now even though it is so cold to make your bones ache? Even though someone got attacked by a great white in this very spot a couple of days ago?"

Remember the bloody foot photo I alluded to several weeks ago? Finally got the film developed. This is what happens when you step on a nail sticking out of an old piece of wood behind the chicken coop and then hobble down a small hill to get inside and then realize you should probably go upstairs and get your camera before washing everything off in the shower:

Included in photo above: flip-flop glistening with sticky blood, plastic bag I put around my foot when walking upstairs to find the camera, and a nice looking footprint. Below: Awesome.

In case you were wondering, the people developing your film do totally look at your photos. I went to pick these up yesterday and the guy at the counter said, "Was that real blood on someone's foot? 'Cos, man, that's a lot of blood."

Old French Guy

I know some of you have been to Zucco, the French Diner on Orchard St. in the L.E.S. So tell me, friends, is this not a picture of Zucco's dad?

I found the photo on The Sartorialist, a site about, well, fashion. Uncharacteristic maybe, but this find made it worthwhile as far as I'm concerned.

Anyway, if you've never been to the French Diner, it comes highly recommended. In fact, it's what made Ben and me want to move to the L.E.S. in the first place.

What We Are Putting in Our Mouths

Look, I know some people are too busy watching movies and having sex to actually post on here, but I think some content is probably overdue. Perhaps a bit of provoking?

No one likes to hear about vegetarianism or veganism or whatever. But if you saw Jake sometime between mid-January to, oh, April, or May, or June, you probably had to hear all about it, because he was so proud of giving up meat that he couldn't shut up about it. All the talk pretty much made me stricten (this is not a word, apparently. Why not? Tighten? Strengthen? What am I missing here? I am going to use it anyway) my own "no meat" stance and make sure I didn't eat fish or accidentally ingest some chicken broth. Not because I'm moral, more because I have to compete.

Anyway, I've witnessed many a dismissal from non-vegetarians, implying that people who don't eat meat for moral reasons are weird, crazy unamericans (also not a word. What the hell?) Why so defensive, meat-eaters? You don't seem to judge when people do all kinds of weird shit if the ethical code of their religion demands it. Even if that means knocking on your door in the morning or not drinking Coke.

The arguments for not eating meat are pretty obvious and straight-forward, even if you think animals are stupid and ugly. I'm not going to get into them because, as I mentioned before, no one wants to hear all that. But Jake might want to let you know. If he ever shows up. But it's not like I'm going to look at you funny when you're eating a hot dog. Depending on how you eat it.

Actually, Jake, maybe you can help explain things for the meat-eaters. Because, as I sit here enjoying my non-dairy frozen dessert (rocky road,) I can see you mocking me. So what if I don't eat/drink milk or if I like to get my protein via tasty soy products that pretend to be something they're not. Maybe, deep down, you wish you could join me.