conducting your own experiment
I met my lovely friend Holly (she has a wonderful food site, Sustainable Suppers, with interviews, podcasts, and recipes) at the new Sandolab yesterday afternoon.
While I determined how I would “conduct [my] own experiment,” she tried the house slaw, as brightly colored as South Beach and slightly tangy. Like a house salad or wine, house slaw might be the measure of a sandwich shop.
I trusted this maker to with his choice of provolone for my experiment, and he told us how his grandmother’s fork always circles his wrist:
Not needing forks after the slaw, Holly and I talked of serious food connections as we picked up our sandwiches—renegade dairy rumors, the current focus of Miami food scenesters, and how to construct a life in this tropical place with artistry and intention.
And last night, the experimentation continued at the cottage, as I spread all the vegetables on the kitchen counter as possibilities:
Deciding against twisting utensils into jewelry, I ordered the materials and began adding colors to the pan.
First, the green and white of chopped leeks, then the brown and beige of thick Maitake slices; next, green and yellow squash semicircles, stems of rainbow chard and their leafy tops, kale, crimson tomatoes, and, finally, garlic chives joined the quodlibet.
Crowned with crisp, crenellated edges of Maitake (appropriately, as the mushroom may fortify the body and prevent disease) and a few drops of Tamari, the plate proved the hypothesis that local vegetables grown together need only a gentle stir and medium heat to combine into a dinner (like yesterday’s lunch) that bears repeating—