in the way of perfection
I just finished my first tomato of the season. I admit, I was a bit desperate- as you might have posited from my previous post, there hasn't been a lot of food in my place. Or more correctly, not a lot of food that is easily accessible in my pathetic bachelor way, ie if it takes more than a few cuts and a single heating tool to make it edible, I'm probably not going to eat it. So my diet has consisted largely of frozen pizzas, sausages and granola.
So, despite usually being deterred by their ridiculously high prices and mediocre quality, I bought a tomato at Andronico's. It was a late night food run where I had planned on only picking up pre-packaged stuff that was on sale (and ended up buying a ridiculously overpriced Wolfgang Puck pizza because I thought it was the closeout one that was about half off- seriously, $9 for a frozen pizza that's not as good as leftovers from any of the good local pizza joints?). But after weeks of things out of boxes, I decided to pay the premium and buy a tomato. At nearly $6/lb, they were about twice as much as Berkeley Bowl or Monterey Market, my usual sources, but I felt like I could justify it this time. Maybe it would reawaken my desire for fresh food.
While not disappointing- given my expectations, that would be tough- it certainly wasn't the best example of a Cherokee Purple that could have kicked off a month or so of tomato feasting. I took it in without any of the usual companions- buying overpriced and waxy basil would have likely have killed any chance of basic enjoyment, same for any number of lesser varieties of mozzerella di cow. A little salt helped, but the texture was off and it almost seemed like it was mixed with an odoriko or other milder variety. Parted radially into sixths, I took it for what is was, a miscellaneous heirloom from a middle-of-the-road shop.
What is more important, though, is that it reminds me that it's important to eat. To remember that I need to ignore the wealth of food in the area, or more correctly ignore my desire to exploit my good fortune as though it's some kind of birthright (esp since I wasn't born here and do nothing to work the land). Just because I could easily buy a locally grown, organic heirloom veggie doesn't mean that buying something less refined (or perhaps more refined, depending on how one reads the GMO-heirloom continuum) is going to make me a lesser person. As I've done with many things, I'm letting the details distract me from the bigger picture, ie I can starve myself until I make the time to ride my bike to the markets- to take refuge in this consumer snobbery- or I can drive my car to the grocery store during normal hours and realize that I have to get on with my life because there are so many other things I want to do with my life. I don't necessarily want to go back to my post-college days where calories per dollar was the prime motivator for my diet, but I certainly need to dial back the snooty procrastination masquerading as high-minded perfectionism.
So, despite usually being deterred by their ridiculously high prices and mediocre quality, I bought a tomato at Andronico's. It was a late night food run where I had planned on only picking up pre-packaged stuff that was on sale (and ended up buying a ridiculously overpriced Wolfgang Puck pizza because I thought it was the closeout one that was about half off- seriously, $9 for a frozen pizza that's not as good as leftovers from any of the good local pizza joints?). But after weeks of things out of boxes, I decided to pay the premium and buy a tomato. At nearly $6/lb, they were about twice as much as Berkeley Bowl or Monterey Market, my usual sources, but I felt like I could justify it this time. Maybe it would reawaken my desire for fresh food.
While not disappointing- given my expectations, that would be tough- it certainly wasn't the best example of a Cherokee Purple that could have kicked off a month or so of tomato feasting. I took it in without any of the usual companions- buying overpriced and waxy basil would have likely have killed any chance of basic enjoyment, same for any number of lesser varieties of mozzerella di cow. A little salt helped, but the texture was off and it almost seemed like it was mixed with an odoriko or other milder variety. Parted radially into sixths, I took it for what is was, a miscellaneous heirloom from a middle-of-the-road shop.
What is more important, though, is that it reminds me that it's important to eat. To remember that I need to ignore the wealth of food in the area, or more correctly ignore my desire to exploit my good fortune as though it's some kind of birthright (esp since I wasn't born here and do nothing to work the land). Just because I could easily buy a locally grown, organic heirloom veggie doesn't mean that buying something less refined (or perhaps more refined, depending on how one reads the GMO-heirloom continuum) is going to make me a lesser person. As I've done with many things, I'm letting the details distract me from the bigger picture, ie I can starve myself until I make the time to ride my bike to the markets- to take refuge in this consumer snobbery- or I can drive my car to the grocery store during normal hours and realize that I have to get on with my life because there are so many other things I want to do with my life. I don't necessarily want to go back to my post-college days where calories per dollar was the prime motivator for my diet, but I certainly need to dial back the snooty procrastination masquerading as high-minded perfectionism.
posted by msgr33 at 04:47
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