Display by Label: Food

In many ways, New Jersey has been a good move for C and me. C loves her job and I've discovered inner peace and existential understanding through yard work. Oh, and we have some great kitchen drawers. And while our neighbors are a little yellow-bellied and talk funny, they're friendly and very welcoming. Still, it's no secret that if I had my choice, if it were not for careers and matters of economics, I'd be back in DC in a heartbeat. But life has brought us to the Garden State and, I've got to say, aside from the constant ache I feel in my ass from being repeatedly violated by our township on our property taxes every three months, it ain't all that bad up here. When we go to the store, we have a much greater selection of pasta sauces to choose from and most of my neighbors have last names that end in a vowel. What more could a half-Italian kid ask for? Also, we're pretty much guaranteed snowfall each winter, something I always missed in Texas (and even DC). Factor in that I'm a 30-minute train ride from NYC, which makes it easy for me to begin some evening classes at NYU, and it all adds up to an overall net gain. Bottom line: I can't really complain.

But there has been something missing from our lives here. Something that used to bring us great joy and that we really took for granted for so long ...

Awww, Dave. Stop right there. You know we don't go for those sappy displays of affection, so let's just keep it brief. You miss your friends back home (both in the DC Metro and the Lone Star). Well, we miss you, too man. We ...

Chipotle.

Oh my God we've fucking missed you, Chipotle. It's left an empty spot in our heart not being able to make the five-minute pilgrimage once or twice a week to one of your holy locations, where we would sit at one of your stainless-steel alters and give honor unto thee while we feast upon a heaping bowl of rice and beans and naturally raised, antibiotic-free chicken. And chips of the white corn variety. Lots of white corn chips. Up until about two weeks ago, we actually needed to drive about 45 minutes to get to one of your places of worship. And that just didn't seem right to us. It somehow ruined the spiritual experience to have to travel that far. And it weren't good on the environment, either.

But all that changed a few weeks ago as C was driving home down Route 10 and noticed those eight beautiful letters spelled out on the side of an otherwise useless strip mall filled with a hot dog hut and a Michaels and a Best Buy and an all-you-can-eat chinese buffet. There it was! Grand Opening: Chipotle. And less than a ten-minute drive from our house!

The first thing C did was call me with the news.

"Guess what?!"

"What?"

"Guess what I just drove by?!"

"What?!"

"It's so wonderful. You'll never guess."

"For the love of God, say it woman!"

"Chipotle!"

"Oh, my lord ... that's .... that's ... amazing."

"I know!"

"... I ... I just ... I mean, I think I need to sit down."

"Breath, Honey."

"It's just so much to take in ..."

"I know. I just pulled over and had a good cry."

"C?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"Oh, I love you, too, Honey."

Oh, how I wish I could describe the joy that filled my heart at that moment. Suddenly, I knew it was all going to be okay. Maybe our economy was falling apart and the world was entering a powerful and scary financial crisis. But by God, we had a Chipotle in our neighborhood. We had nothing to worry about. Things were going to work out.

God had not forgotten us.

Since it opened two weeks ago, C and I have visited the store a total of five times and I think we're finally over the religious zealot faze. We're finally speaking in complete, rational sentences that don't end in ... "do you feel like Chipotle?"

And let me add, in case you think me cold and callous, we do really miss our friends and family back home, too. And please don't judge us for our love of Chipotle. If we had a decent Tex-Mex place up here, we probably wouldn't depend on it quite as much as we do. But desperate times call for desperate measures. And Chipotle is our tie to the Mexican comfort food of home. Please understand.

Now that our bellies are full, we really do miss you guys.

Really.

link to this | comments (9) | File:  Food  Friends  Moving  NJ 

Cinnamon is nice to have on top of a cappuccino. It mixes with the foam and espresso for the perfect blend of morning bliss. Ground coriander, on the other hand, is typically something you might find in a curry or soup. Although in its container ground coriander may resemble cinnamon (the same way poop, under the right set of circumstances, may resemble chocolate) it does not taste at all good when poured liberally over any sort of warm caffeinated beverage. For this reason, it may be wise to keep the cinnamon and ground coriander on separate sides of the spice rack.

Remember this: I do the hard work so ya'll don't have to. Thank me later.

link to this | comments (8) | File:  Coffee  Food  Ho_Hum 

In case you were wondering, eating Ranch-style dressing that is one year and four months beyond its expiration date will, in fact, make you physically ill. Cath confirmed, and I bore witness to this around midnight last night. That's my baby: doing the hard science so the rest of us don't have to. Of course, to take advantage of this knowledge you must be able to successfully employ a skill most often referred to as 'reading.' Sadly, neither Cath nor myself can help you in this area. We can confirm, however, that relying solely on your sense of smell will get you nowhere.

link to this | comments (4) | File:  Cath  Food 

I don't think this would have ever been something I would have considered eating for lunch before I married Catherine. Now it's pretty standard afternoon fare for me.

Granny Smiths and sharp white cheddar cheese? Bagels with cream cheese and salmon? Neither of these combinations is really all that strange, I guess, but I might very well have turned up my nose at a plate like that ten years ago. Now it's a treat. Other culinary delights I've come to appreciate as a direct result of knowing Catherine and her family: sushi, dim-sum, Indian food, pâte a la viande (Canadian meat pastry thing), brie and various other cheeses, some that smell pretty bad. It seems the more refined my taste in cheese, the more I can tolerate the smell of feet.

One thing I still haven't gotten used to: peanut butter and banana sandwiches.

link to this | comments (4) | File:  Food  Cath