Monday, August 08, 2016

HE DON'T EAT NO MEAT?!?

One of the regulars wishes me to understand that he is a deeply spiritual person. Which is why he is taking his date to a holistic restaurant. Even though I'm dying to know what in blazes a holistic restaurant is, I did not ask. Largely because I wanted the conversation to end as soon as possible. I just didn't feel comfortable.

I have no wish to delve into another person's deep spirituality, and fervently hope he doesn't leave a pile of it lying around. Where it may scare little children, or dry into a hard little cake on the carpet.

We just had that carpet installed.
Ten years ago.


Marin County is a very special place.

My idea of a restaurant to take a date is an eatery that has meat or seafood, and hot sauce. I could never date a vegetarian, vegan, gluten-psycho, or food-phobe. Years ago, when I was in Berkeley I made the mistake of taking a Vegetarian out to dinner. The first and only date.
That made me loathe what white people do to tofu ever since.
It may well have scarred me for the rest of my life.
Tofu is great with fatty pork, by the way.
Or grilled shrimp.


"That's okay, that's okay! I make lamb."

-----Aunt Voula, in MBFGW


I know I really shouldn't make fun of majority food-preferences in this country, but it really is irresistible. The subject is endlessly fascinating, and most Americans are downright bizarre. Raw vegetables with nothing, or overcooked to the mush stage, plus burnt fat, and boiled starch. And a very limited protein spectrum: hot dogs, burgers, steaks, deepfried grease-encrusted chicken, chops, overcooked salmon, and tuna. Or, for the ultra-enlightened segment: beans, fake cheese, lentils, kale, fake bacon, tofurky, and chicken-flavoured vegetarian ham.
That last if they're lucky.

There's a burrito chain that caters primarily to that crowd. It's a bit more expensive than regular food, has far less flavour, and seems to make folks deathly ill every other month. But on the plus side, it's very hip. And has many branches located near a Starbucks.
Or a Jamba Juice location.
It's hip.


FOOD IS DÉCLASSÉ

The easiest way for immigrants in California to be accepted is to acquire food insanity. Particularly vegetarianism and gluten-psychosis, or, conversely, an affection for gourmet vegan muck that costs a hundred dollars a plate. It's proves that you are spiritual. Deeply.


By the way: dinner last night was stirfried yauchoi with shrimp-paste, saté sauce, chilies, and eggs scrambled in. It looked like hell on a plate, but was super delicious. By my standards that's vegetarian, and about as spiritual as I can get.



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5 comments:

e-kvetcher said...

Reminds me of my favorite movie scene

Cigarette Bar said...

One of the regulars where? At the cigar bar?

The back of the hill said...

E-kvetcher,

A) Five second rule (possibly: П'ять секунд Дозвіл).

B) Sausages?

C) Now I have to see that movie.


The back of the hill said...

Cigarette Bar,

No.

In the wilds of Marin.

The back of the hill said...

Marin; it's vegetarian Rome.

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