Our local meals this week have not been worthy of the Chinese New Year. They've been fast food in the form of quick braised greens, brown rice and handfuls of almonds. One night we had scrambled eggs with the rice, another night a delicata squash with the kale. We've been eating bunches of carrots carried to work in wax paper bags, satsumas two at a time.
Hardly worth writing about except for the fact that we've managed to maintain real food as fast food when we need to.
The one trophy meal of the week was a pizza with potatoes, tomatoes, peppers, a mystery artisan cheese, hot Italian sausage and carmelized onions.
Tonight I was at a loss for dinner. There was cauliflower and arugula in the fridge. Some onions and a jar of yeast. At least that's all I could see.
"I can't eat anymore greens," the cute guy said. He had his head buried in his hands at the table.
We walked downtown to eat.
"Where do you think zucchini comes from this time of the year?" I asked at the first item on the menu.
The waiter walked up. "We'll have the pizza," the cute guy said taking the menu out of my hand. "And the arugula salad. We'll share."
"Arugula is local," I offered once we were alone again.
"I know," he replied. "And just for tonight everything else here is local too."
He's such a good sport I played along, although I can't stop wondering about where those poor zucchini must have come from.
15 hours ago
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