Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Thoughts on Living with a Foodie

"The Sandwich"one of my favorites & often made for picnics. Look at the layers of goodness.

Weekend breakfast at home.

My favorite fancy pants wine. I'll spare you the photo of me hugging the bottle.

Fiddleheads, short season, so a treat when they're here.

The antipasto at Venda, best I've had anywhere (and I grew up in NJ).

The Public Market in Seattle. Yum, fava beans!

The best strawberry shortcake I've ever had, at the Tea House in Santa Fe.

Chicken pho at Pho Paradise. Miracle cure for all that ails you.

By no means do I claim to be a true foodie, but living with one is starting to have an effect on me. This recent trip to Portland has brought to light a few habits I've picked up since spending most of my time with a full blooded foodie.

For starters, I now take lots of photos of food. I do this at home when D has cooked an amazing meal, I do it if I'm out to eat without him and want to show him what I had, and I do it under the direction of D (or just pass him the camera) if he was struck with inspiration. Looking back through photos later, I'm really glad I picked up this habit. A photo of a meal in Costa Rica brings me right back to the fun and happy night I had it. The many (many) photos of dinner cooked right here at home reminds me of just how lucky I am that D likes to cook.

Another habit I've picked up is talking to my food. A meal used to be put down in front of me and I'd . . . you know, start eating it and keep right on chatting. Now I stop and look at it, smell it, often take a photo, and after the first bite find myself saying things like "You taste good."

I also am much more in tune with flavors. Whether it's tasting a wine, or tasting some slowly cooked pork (yum) I've gotten a lot better at being able to articulate what I taste, what I like and find myself making comments like "These gnocchi are like little pillows of heaven." (Those would be at Gracie's, if you're interested.)

I also find myself in a lot of markets and wine stores. In Portland I couldn't help but ask "Do you think other people go grocery shopping while on vacation?" Granted, I'm often known to wait outside, or when the stars line up, go to the used book store two doors down, but I do have a new appreciation for the freshness of a good market. The colors and smells of the produce, free samples in the cheese area, and the different local items that I don't see in Rhode Island are all good things. (Yes, we travel with a small cooler, just in case we can't pass up something.)

I used to consider myself a boring eater, I just didn't know how good food could be, it just didn't excite me. I never knew the genius of slowly cooked pork, morrel mushrooms, or a crisp Sancerre. Of course, I used to be a pant size smaller, but if that's the price I pay for this great appreciation, I'll take it.

I can't help but wonder if D sits around being thankful he knows things like: what a warp is, why handmade letterpress cards are superior to Hallmark, or why polypropylene on a couch is just gross. I can only hope.

I'll leave you with a silly video of us enjoying Kalua pig. Really, do other people get this excited about slowly cooked pork?


  1. killller.. killler dude (sung to theme of thriller) printing this to read later.

  2. food is beautiful. as is your writing on the topic - proof of your slow but sure conversion