Wherever you go, there you are, or “Angel’s 1st groceryshop back in NOLA,” by Angel Brynner.

It started simply enough. It usually does.

I am out and about and suddenly absently reminded by myself that i need to eat something later, or as in the case today, that i had no real groceries, hadn’t really had vegetables the Entire month(outside a welcome back pile of collards& grit-cake alongside some alligator at Vacherrie) and that my body was craving something good for it[ in this case,Fish, oddly against my inner child’s will [But then again maybe she knew what was coming].

The closest label to what I am that was initially found was SFP, like 20 years ago. Basically, i was that kid[&adult] who’d find the strangest looking fruits and veggies or what-have-you in farmer’s markets and HAVE to try it just because it flummoxed the mind that it could look like that and be eaten. Early on, it was as simple as a discovery of polenta and grew to things in the vein of that aforementioned alligator wilkommen. It was egged on by the fact that Moms was a bit of a non-cooking diva[dad taught his two daughters to cook early on so we wouldn’t starve while he was at work lol], which led to a headstrong teenager whose first subscription was to Gourmet magazine, not Bazaar [tho it was a close second or third] being given carte blanc when it came to making meals for the house growing up because i was doing the shopping šŸ™‚ .

SFP stood for Silly foods person, by the way. but there was no silliness in it for me,only abject giddiness about the whole thing. As i said, SFP was the closest approximation.

Over time i found out that what i really was fell more in the category of a neophyte foodie hedonist, memories inextricably linked to taste as much if not more than sight.Ā  When i miss NYC,it is the juggernaut-sized conglomeration of international grocers and foodie haunts that you usually only find in other people’s homelands, a spot at a time.

When I meander through memories of lovers, it is almost always keyed to food their mothers taught them to cook so they wouldn’t starve that they in turn taught me, or happily bizarre ‘Like water for Chocolate’ antics that went down between us. I cannot eat mango or pineapple without smiling like a…well you know lol. And I still recall the elder statesman artist dude i was holed up with in Greece hopping down into the placid water we were gazing out across during lunch, plucking a sea urchin, cracking it & demanding i taste it without a word. I can call up that taste as clear as the night skies i found a way to at 20 to honor my inner 5year old. The men who were drawn to me sensually always came packing…skills in the kitchen lol, and a few i couldn’t stand beyond things i probably shouldn’t have been doing with’em anyway[horrible to admit,but true] even used to shyly cook for me out of nowhere to access the more reticentĀ  parts of myself they’d otherwise not be privy to, like God himself was like “Trust me, your mama’s ” ” will soften her cranky a** up a bit” in their ears.

Needless to say…it’s been a bit ridiculous up in here in Many ways about food. De- sexualizing my joy of it took the last part of my 20s, and is where I learned to bathe in the love of eating out alone-which i still do to this day. I have standing dinner-dates with Holy every week. it’s just part of what we do. Now the rapture with it is on a wholly spiritual level.

But one of the BEST things about being a grown-assed woman With these quirky grandioseĀ  ideas about the exploration of this thing called Life(sometimes aka food) is that I can buy what i want with my money to eat 100% across the board. I go to a grocery store and every once in a while it gets like the World’s Fair up in’ere. From white raspberries to satsumas and mangosteens, if its something not normally seen, it ends up in the basket.

And today was one of those days. It wasn’t a BIG day for it… I mean I spent under what i normally do for a week’s worth of food. But it was a hilarious one for it because even my inner nine year old,the one who’s usually game for trying anything, momentarily had a fit over my choice of Shark. But she was fussing about fish upon entry anyway.Ā  IĀ  framed it as a spiritual pursuit- when learning to swim in SOBE, i had two experiences with actual sharksĀ  in the ocean, so we are going Native American on the whole thing. Plus I tossed in a T-Bone to balance her out. Sometimes its as much about 1st preps as far-flung tastes…and i have never grilled one before, so she is piqued lol.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

the one thing i may have to go back for-because i keep thinking about it- is baby purple artichokes. That was a 1st. I wanted to go research HOW they did it just in case its not…you know.

here’s the info found: http://www.friedas.com/fiesole-baby-purple-artichokes/

I’ll let you know how it goes lol.


Good eating!



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s