A Few Lessons in Timing and Articulation

Part of being a fledgling foodie is that the learning curve can be very frustrating. For instance, the Glenda's debacle was frustrating because we got there too late to get to try several of the dishes recommended by my sources. I woud not have had the okra if the smothered pork steak was still available. Realistically, I question whether any experienced foodie would choose okra...ever. I have eaten it the past and it has always had a slimy mouthfeel that is not compensated by it's taste in my opinion. Of course, this didn't stop me from devour two thirds of it.

But to return to my point...timing matters in this traveling food journey I'm taking. These places I'm eager to explore are not fast food franchises that can repeatedly create the exact same food again and again. These artists are using limited fresh local ingredients. They are only able to provide a finite amount of smothered pork steaks or braised pork cheeks as in the case of our visit to Dai Due butchers at the Farmer's Market in Austin.

I have been fascinated with those parts of the animal that most folks just throw away, but, (as I have learned from Andy Z), are frequently the most delicious morsels to consume. I have seen Andrew pop more than a few cheeks, eyeballs, tongues, ears and toes into his mouth and roll his head and rave about the wonderful textural and taste sensations these parts evoked. I have more to say about this, but to make my point about timing first. We arrived at the Dai Due kiosk at the farmer's market too late for the cheeks. In fact, as if in slow, dramatic motion, I watched the guy there put up the "sold out" sign for the cheeks. Add music and it's the climax of a foodie tragedy. I realized this was twice now that casual attention to timing has interfered with the carefully calculated food experience I was seeking out. And it's not like I can just go there the next day. Nope. This fledgling foodie better get on the ball with her priorities. Check the schedule. Check the menu. Decide what's really important... like spending time with the ones you love... or eating pork cheeks! 

I have also realized that I need to start focusing on the food a bit more. John said, you wrote about Glenda's, but you didn't write much about the food itself. My nephew Thom gave me the idea that I need to gather my thoughts about the actual eating experience closer to the moment of impact. One thing I've learned about food experiences is that shortly after the experience has ended the details dissipate. I've learned from energy work that vibration doesn't span memory. And with food, the vibration changes drastically after it enters the digestive tract and starts to turn into sluggish, nap inducing energy. Unfortunately, it seems to be true that with many of the foods that fascinate me, the energy they trigger AFTER the eating experience is not the bliss that they evoke BEFORE I eat them. This may be a deal breaker in the experienced kingdom of foodies, but eating lots of fat has a cost. OH MY GOD! This may be the beginning of the end of my foodie identity. Soooo, let us not venture further down that pathway.

Let's talk about parts. Yes, I mean animal parts, offal. I experienced the marriage of two new foodie practices at an imperfect time while out in Austin recently.  My niece, Jess took us to a spot called Lucy's. It got rave reviews from her local friends for it's fried chicken.  When we got there I was surprised to see calf fries or "mountain oysters" on the menu. Now, I knew that they were calf testicles, but Jess did not. I told her and her eyes got wide and I could see a frightened look on her face when I said we had to try them. The only expression that exceeded her's was John's, who looked personally threatened by the prospect of eating these particularly delicate parts. But, a true foodie cannot simply succumb to the weaknesses of her dinner mates. I may never have this opportunity again. No, I pressed on and the crunchy little morsels arrived at our table with a ranch style sauce accompanying them.

 

It was delightful to try them, but equally enjoyable to watch Jess and John wade into the dark pool of part eating. Also unfortunate was the timing of the recent conversations about being more articulate about analyzing the flavors and textures of the foods I ate. John, picking up on this detail about more articulation and, being ever so helpful, offered the articulate words, "creamy" and "kinda spermy" as his analysis of the experience. He did this just at the moment that Jess popped one into her mouth. Oh the suffering in her eyes as she politely tried to chew and swallow what had become a vivid ordeal in nearly absolute reality. Jess politely swallowed and opted not to try another, but rather bring the leftovers home to torture her little brother. John was also a little traumatized by the experience, which had obviously struck him on a more personal level. I was actually a little disappointed by the triumphant moment of eating balls for the first time. As is often the case, the anticipation of an eating experience can be more blissful than the eating itself. I will have to try them again when they are not deep fried and crunchy, since anything deep fried and crunchy is delicious and undistinguishable for anything else deep fried and crunchy. And as for articulation in food descriptions... timing is everything.