Writing Outside The Box
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One of the EATERAZ clan is down for the count with some sort of medieval avian flu. That’s given him a lot of time to surf around the ‘net. This morning, he stumbled upon a great article titled “The Moral Crusade Against Foodies” that appears in the current issue of The Atlantic. Read it by clicking here: www.theatlantic.com.
The other EATERAZ guy went and got a sandwich in the neighborhood today, and after reading said article, decided to exercise the ‘ole writing muscle with a little food porn piece focused on today’s sandwich. You could read all the nonsense below or just check out the edited version here: “The sandwich is pretty good, but 16 %^&* dollars?!” Here we go:
I recently went for a perfect stroll along the meandering and breezy Scottsdale canal, hoping to catch a few moments of quiet amidst my hectic, urban week. Hunger knocked, so I answered with a lunch stop in the area. Options now abound at SouthBridge, and although beats of euro lounge reached across the waters, trying to coax me into lounging relaxingly on the Olive & Ivy patio, I turned left, walking past the sun-kissed al fresco seating of the newly opened Herb Box. When dining casually and quickly, the streetside Herb Box Market is a stylish option for a quick bite. When one enters the quaint space, all kinds of perfectly wrapped gourmet treats, artisanal package goods, and locally made bounty welcome guests. After perusing the cases of fresh salads, creative desserts, and other house-made items of wonder, I decided on a market sandwich. The affable gentleman behind the counter, who stood about 5’11”, dressed in a crisp white shirt, and enthusiastic to offer suggestions, validated my choice of the Pulled Pork Sandwich.
Paired with an estate-grown black iced tea and bag of homemade sweet potato chips, this would be a lunch to remember. I sat at one of the bistro tables on the narrow, gardenesque patio. Sunshine poured into the area, bordered by ironwork and planters, while small loving birds queued up for their taste of the good life. My sandwich arrived wrapped in some heavenly brown paper. As I slowly unwrapped the bundle of joy, I began to notice that the paper had been folded and tucked in an incredibly thoughtful yet efficient manner. One might call it heavenly. Once open, the smell of brown sugar, spices, and slow-cooked pork wafted upwards, almost visible in the patio sunlight. My superb olfactory sense detected at least seven layers of taste I would soon experience.
Any foodie worth their Himalayan Sea Salt will tell you that any true sandwich review begins with the outer layers—in this case it’s a ciabatta. House-made for sure. A worthy counterpart to the juicy shredded pork, Ciabatta is known for retaining its strength during an onset of liquids. Whereas this divine pork would have caused separation for other sandwich breads, and since buns are tres désagréable, Ciabatta is a perfectly perfect accompaniment.
I found myself wanting to add crunch by placing a layer of chips above the pork. Maybe it’s my desire to relive childhood memories of cramming Lays potato chips into my bologna sandwich, maybe it’s my lifelong search for the perfect textural combination, maybe it’s because that’s what Paula Deen would do. In the end, I refrained from doing so because altering this dish would be an insult to the chef, a fatal blow to the culinary heart of this temple to all things organic and fresh. Chefs are Gods and who am I to tell God that I might enjoy a little crunch? Especially since the watercress in this sandwich is so divine.
When finished, I crumpled up my brown paper, retied my cellophane baggie of chips with the metallic silver tie that so stylishly holds the bag closed, and requested a refill of tea, mainly to enjoy yet more nuances of citrus and estate grown spices.
These three items—sandwich, chips, tea—cost $16. Some may deem that expensive, but eating fresh, artisanal foods, it is said by experts, will keep us from dying. I feel a sense of pity for my friends who opt for value meals at McDonald’s, knowing full well that they will soon die from eating the food of the poor. Who needs health insurance when you’ve got an organic market?! I know I don’t.
Next time, I’ll save room for a morsel of something delectable and sweet. A airy yet plump macaroon perhaps. Whatever it turns out to be, I have no doubt it will inspire 826 unnecessary adjectives.
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[...] This post was mentioned on Twitter by EATERAZ and kate crowley, Kirti D.. Kirti D. said: Now THAT was funny! RT @eateraz: FOODIES GONE WILD >> http://www.eateraz.com/2011/02/writing-outside-the-box/ [...]