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Meeting for dinner at a restaurant is not my idea of a good first
date. For starters there's my paranoia about being trapped for the
length of a meal across the table from someone I might end up not
liking very much. Worse than that, however, is the fear that my
nerves might give me butterflies in my tummy that would ruin my
enjoyment of the eating experience.
I love to eat. It seems my awareness about this has developed fairly
recently, probably about the same time I figured out that I like to
cook. Cooking reminds me of my old electric kit from Radio Shack and
how much I loved to hook up its wires by closely following its
diagrams. Eating, and enjoying what I'm eating, is like seeing the
little light start to glow once you close the circuit.
Cooking for other people is one of my great joys, and so far I don't
think I've poisoned anyone. Cooking for myself is a little more of a
challenge; the pile of dirty dishes just doesn't seem worth it
sometimes. Fortunately I don't have a problem with eating out by
myself, and doubly fortunate that I live in one of the food capitals
of the world. I get my local organic fruits and vegetables delivered
fresh to my door every other week, and my choice of incredible
restaurants on either side of the bay. In no particular order, here
are some of the places I return to again and again:
Blue
Cesar
Ti Couz
Breads of India
Isobune Sushi
Kirin
Barney's
Le Soleil
Cafe Fanny
Cafe Talulah
Rick and Ann's
Cactus Taqueria
Ah, the memories of crepes so divine, sauces so delicious that I would
have to grab my dining companion's leg under the table in sheer
ecstasy. For let us not forget how downright sensuous food can be.
Ply me with food and drink, add a little stimulating conversation, and
then hang on.
Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.
—Yeats
Sustain
Slow Food Movement
Big Barn
Organicfood.co.uk
FoodNews.org
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Heidi J. De Vries
