It's Sunday morning. Last night my husband and I splurged for our anniversary and ate at a classic area steak restaurant. I had a huge ribeye, priced at $31.99. (Also, a mixed salad; side dishes of mashed potatoes and creamed spinach, which were both even better than the steak itself; a glass of cabernet; and chocolate mousse for dessert.) Did I mention the ribeye was huge? I only ate half. (Same with the chocolate mousse, which my husband finished off for me.) I brought the other half of the steak home, for the express purpose of enjoying it this morning. Steak and eggs.
Sliced and reheated on the griddle, it was still enough to share between the both of us. I fried us a couple of eggs apiece, over-medium-ish, cut our last hunk of Fonzy melon in half, made toast. (I keep forgetting to buy butter, but we had three pre-packaged pats that I stuck in my purse after our trip to the diner on Friday night, along with my leftover biscuit wrapped in a napkin. No, I don't have a delicate little appetite, restaurants serve you too much food. And I hate to waste anything.) The toast was bland, some Arnold's affair I bought at Snider's, claiming to be whole-grain. Everything else was delicious.
No, I didn't take a picture of this meal, because a) it never occurs to me to take pictures of anything, b) I don't have a camera of my own, even a cell phone that takes photos, and c) this post was utterly spontaneous. I opened a draft without the slightest idea what I might say, only that I wanted to somehow introduce the site before launching into my next post, a highly specific discussion of a particular issue in some local elections. That seemed a jarring way to begin, but perhaps steak and eggs are stranger still. One thing is clear, however. I need to develop the capacity to take photos. If nothing else, it would make my mother so happy. Also, I wouldn't have as many moments like yesterday's, when, after an exhaustive image search, I chose a mundane Washington Post-owned photo of two empty lunch trays sitting side by side, one cardboard and one styrofoam, and priced the cost of using said image on my website... $1660. This was a shock. Being nothing if not honest, I walked away.
So, this is an image-free first post, which reflects my true nature, but is not in line with current trends. Images, I promise, will be forthcoming. I'm excited, in a way, to have a site without a clear plan, one that can change and grow without betraying its purpose. The title came to me, though, as I was using the restroom (swiftly, efficiently) for a moment in the middle of my waitressing shift. See, eating is everywhere in my life. It is the mission of my workplace. It is my preoccupation as an adventurous home cook and a lover of grimy diners and refrigerated sushi. Any political issue that centers on food or agriculture tends to get my attention, especially if it has to do with the school lunch program. I read books on nutrition and try out different fad diets, but only if I'm convinced they're healthy. Grocery shopping is one of my favorite things. What are we doing tonight for Father's Day? Why, going out for dinner, of course.
There's nothing unusual about this. While we may, in our modern arrogance, pretend that eating is no longer the very center of our existence, I would submit that we are totally wrong. As our food culture becomes ever more complex (PaleoEthiopianTwinkies?UnagiGlutenfreeGeneralTso'sMastercleanseMrPibbFarmer'smarketSmithfieldRawfoodSourpatchkids), we are still animals.
As one of my daughter's favorite teachers would say, eating is important indeed.
Sliced and reheated on the griddle, it was still enough to share between the both of us. I fried us a couple of eggs apiece, over-medium-ish, cut our last hunk of Fonzy melon in half, made toast. (I keep forgetting to buy butter, but we had three pre-packaged pats that I stuck in my purse after our trip to the diner on Friday night, along with my leftover biscuit wrapped in a napkin. No, I don't have a delicate little appetite, restaurants serve you too much food. And I hate to waste anything.) The toast was bland, some Arnold's affair I bought at Snider's, claiming to be whole-grain. Everything else was delicious.
No, I didn't take a picture of this meal, because a) it never occurs to me to take pictures of anything, b) I don't have a camera of my own, even a cell phone that takes photos, and c) this post was utterly spontaneous. I opened a draft without the slightest idea what I might say, only that I wanted to somehow introduce the site before launching into my next post, a highly specific discussion of a particular issue in some local elections. That seemed a jarring way to begin, but perhaps steak and eggs are stranger still. One thing is clear, however. I need to develop the capacity to take photos. If nothing else, it would make my mother so happy. Also, I wouldn't have as many moments like yesterday's, when, after an exhaustive image search, I chose a mundane Washington Post-owned photo of two empty lunch trays sitting side by side, one cardboard and one styrofoam, and priced the cost of using said image on my website... $1660. This was a shock. Being nothing if not honest, I walked away.
So, this is an image-free first post, which reflects my true nature, but is not in line with current trends. Images, I promise, will be forthcoming. I'm excited, in a way, to have a site without a clear plan, one that can change and grow without betraying its purpose. The title came to me, though, as I was using the restroom (swiftly, efficiently) for a moment in the middle of my waitressing shift. See, eating is everywhere in my life. It is the mission of my workplace. It is my preoccupation as an adventurous home cook and a lover of grimy diners and refrigerated sushi. Any political issue that centers on food or agriculture tends to get my attention, especially if it has to do with the school lunch program. I read books on nutrition and try out different fad diets, but only if I'm convinced they're healthy. Grocery shopping is one of my favorite things. What are we doing tonight for Father's Day? Why, going out for dinner, of course.
There's nothing unusual about this. While we may, in our modern arrogance, pretend that eating is no longer the very center of our existence, I would submit that we are totally wrong. As our food culture becomes ever more complex (PaleoEthiopianTwinkies?UnagiGlutenfreeGeneralTso'sMastercleanseMrPibbFarmer'smarketSmithfieldRawfoodSourpatchkids), we are still animals.
As one of my daughter's favorite teachers would say, eating is important indeed.