Tag Archives: Farmer’s Market

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One of the things I love about any friendship is when you create shared memories together. It pushes you from the realm of merely “people who get along” into the world of “people who have been through some shit together.” It opens up the door to inside jokes and stories that begin with, “Remember that one time …”

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The gateway to temptation.

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I am occasionally faced with a temptation that I, fortunately, have yet to act upon. My husband delicately describes it as “socially unfeasible.” I simply think it’s madness. Delicious, delicious madness.

The temptation is this: I want to eat food that doesn’t belong to me.

Now, before you start telling me that everyone feels this way, let me make myself clear. I don’t mean picking off the plate of some dear friend who is having lunch with me. Not at all. That’s completely fair game, and if we ever go out for a meal, you should expect that this will probably happen, and that your entree is mine for the taking (and vice versa … unless we’re talking about dessert, at which point you might lose a finger. Consider yourself warned).

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I feel like I need to start this off with some sort of caveat about my complex and often contradictory feelings towards vegetarians. Some of my closest friends eschew flesh, which I personally find insane but acknowledge it as a legitimate lifestyle choice for others (sort of like skinny jeans). After all, it literally leaves more meat for me. By pure definition of being my friends, the vegetarians in my life are understanding and non-judgmental (I seek out in others the characteristics I lack) and consequently would not dream of giving someone a hard time for being, say, an indiscriminate, blood-slurping carnivore.

It is the judgmental vegetarians with whom I have a problem. The holier-than-thou, that-thing-you’re-eating-was-once-alive, I’m-cranky-because-I-don’t-get-enough-protein jerks who I have had the occassional misfortune of encountering. Those vegetarians suck.

I would gladly take one of those vegetarians to Borough Market, because they would FREAK THE HELL OUT.

Oh, how they would freak out. Because Borough Market is a carnivore’s dream come true. An endless stream of meats culled from all sorts of magically delicious animals, prepared in every way imaginable, and served up piping hot. For a girl like me, raised on tripe and pig’s feet, and all manner of offal that I assumed everyone else ate, it’s like the lovechild of Disneyland and a slab of bacon.

In other words, if you are in London, go, go, GO. (more…)