A Meal of Cryptic Messages with a Side of Review
There is more than one Farmer's Market in San Francisco, but I always go to the same one. I've learned that people are very particular about and loyal to whichever one they like, and I'm no exception.
Every weekend I go to the Farmer's Market and get a crepe for breakfast. Rain was forecasted for today, and maybe that's why the crepe people weren't there this morning. I can be flexible, so I decided to try out the Hayes Street Grill people instead. Their eggs and bacon always look so good (from one stand over), tomatoes and orange juice look fresh, they seem to cook to order, they always have a long line, what could go wrong?
The bacon was cold. The eggs were barely cooked. The bread (I suppose there are some people who like this) was all soggy from the eggy liquid on the plate (though the dry piece I ate tasted good). I'd thought they cooked to order since they have no less than half a dozen people working there and I've seen cooking impliments (you know, like frying pans and fire), but apparently they just have everything in chafing dishes (thank you) unless you want something special and fancy. Which of course, I did not.
The good news is it was only $5.50 for what I got, and that's not a bad amount of money to lose trying someplace new. (I would be writing lots more here, but ...) I ate about half of the food before deciding to take a spin around to see if anything else looked good.
Fried asparagus? That did not look good to me. At all. Sausage? Strangely (since I don't like it) looked good, but not so good that I actually wanted any. There was a stand that had pastries, called Della....Something, that looked pretty good. They even had challah. So I paid $2 for a cinnamon-sugar twist thingy. It looked like something I'd want a drink with, so I decided to bring it home instead of eating it as I walked around.
When I got home, I took a bite of it over the kitchen sink. It was hard. Not just the burnt kind of hard, but like biscotti-hard. It was not good. That's a grand total of $7.50 I spent this morning trying foods. I spent another $3 on spinach fettuccine, but I've gotten that before and know I like it.
I always feel guilty going to the Farmer's Market (yet clearly not TOO guilty, since I go every weekend) because it's so expensive. So it hurts me to waste money. Some people, who shall remain nameless, would say that it's not a waste to try new things. While I respect that point of view, and like and appreciate it greatly, I am not quite able to embrace it myself, though I will keep trying.
Sure hope the crepe people are back next weekend.
Every weekend I go to the Farmer's Market and get a crepe for breakfast. Rain was forecasted for today, and maybe that's why the crepe people weren't there this morning. I can be flexible, so I decided to try out the Hayes Street Grill people instead. Their eggs and bacon always look so good (from one stand over), tomatoes and orange juice look fresh, they seem to cook to order, they always have a long line, what could go wrong?
The bacon was cold. The eggs were barely cooked. The bread (I suppose there are some people who like this) was all soggy from the eggy liquid on the plate (though the dry piece I ate tasted good). I'd thought they cooked to order since they have no less than half a dozen people working there and I've seen cooking impliments (you know, like frying pans and fire), but apparently they just have everything in chafing dishes (thank you) unless you want something special and fancy. Which of course, I did not.
The good news is it was only $5.50 for what I got, and that's not a bad amount of money to lose trying someplace new. (I would be writing lots more here, but ...) I ate about half of the food before deciding to take a spin around to see if anything else looked good.
Fried asparagus? That did not look good to me. At all. Sausage? Strangely (since I don't like it) looked good, but not so good that I actually wanted any. There was a stand that had pastries, called Della....Something, that looked pretty good. They even had challah. So I paid $2 for a cinnamon-sugar twist thingy. It looked like something I'd want a drink with, so I decided to bring it home instead of eating it as I walked around.
When I got home, I took a bite of it over the kitchen sink. It was hard. Not just the burnt kind of hard, but like biscotti-hard. It was not good. That's a grand total of $7.50 I spent this morning trying foods. I spent another $3 on spinach fettuccine, but I've gotten that before and know I like it.
I always feel guilty going to the Farmer's Market (yet clearly not TOO guilty, since I go every weekend) because it's so expensive. So it hurts me to waste money. Some people, who shall remain nameless, would say that it's not a waste to try new things. While I respect that point of view, and like and appreciate it greatly, I am not quite able to embrace it myself, though I will keep trying.
Sure hope the crepe people are back next weekend.
posted by Green at 3/18/2006 09:28:00 AM
9 Comments:
Right there with you. I hate spending good money on bad food. (It took years of my life before I ordered anything other than a cheeseburger at McDonald's. Which, um, isn't exactly good food...)
The cinnamon sugar twist thing was probably a churro, and it was probably stale. It should be crisp but soft in the center. They're usually too greasy, but sometimes you can find one that's magical with coffee.
The cinnamon sugar twist thing was probably a churro, and it was probably stale. It should be crisp but soft in the center. They're usually too greasy, but sometimes you can find one that's magical with coffee.
Because the Farmer's Market I go to is expensive, I only go periodically. It's a treat for me and my kids.
Trying new foods can be fun, and that's part of why we go to the Farmer's Market. But there's a difference between trying a new food and simply not liking it, and trying a new food and it being stale, soggy, the wrong temperature, whatever.
Paying for crappily/incorrectly prepared food chaps my ass. This happened to me twice on the road home from Houston - the drive through and to-go, in both cases.
No, I don't like vanilla syrup added to my huge cup of nonfat latte. Could not drink it. And no, I do not like my bread on my sandwich to be sogging by the time I unwrap it because the meat has been doused in sauce.
Grrrrrrr...
Here's hoping you have a creppey weekend next week!
Here's hoping you have a creppey weekend next week!
In a restaurant I'm afraid to order anything I'm not sure of. I always wonder, what if I don't like it? Then I'll either have to eat something I hate or leave hungry. Send it back or order something else? No way. If I ordered it and it was prepared correctly, it's my problem, not the kitchen's. Then I worry about offending the person I'm with, usually my boyfriend or parents who are paying since I don't treat myself to anything but fast food.
It's just easier to stick with something I know I like.
In a restaurant I'm afraid to order anything I'm not sure of. I always wonder, what if I don't like it? Then I'll either have to eat something I hate or leave hungry. Send it back or order something else? No way. If I ordered it and it was prepared correctly, it's my problem, not the kitchen's. Then I worry about offending the person I'm with, usually my boyfriend or parents who are paying since I don't treat myself to anything but fast food.
It's just easier to stick with something I know I like.
Student Nurse Jack - or, can I call you Just Jack (yes, I've been waiting a while to do that) - you got what I like to refer to as Fucked At the Drive-Thru. I don't use them these days, what with not having a car to umm... drive THRU with, but in the olden days, I'd get my food and if noone was behind me, look through the bag to make sure I got what I ordered, or, if there were cars behind me, pull into a parking space to do it.
Nothing's worse than getting all the way home before you realize you were given the wrong thing, or something you ordered was left out. Except crushing your milk shake in your dad's car as you're getting out of it. Not that I did that.
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