The Scoop

  • In fourth grade someone got the bright idea of cutting lunch to an outrageous 15 minutes (as if going to a year-round school without a cafeteria wasn't enough--we ate at our desks and were served by mobile carts in the hall). To get the slow eaters (me) up to speed, our teachers implemented a charming little policy called "Shovel Time."

    The first nine minutes would pass normally. Then as the tenth approached, Miss Stauffer (a feathered-haired gal who drove a Camaro, loved Little River Band...and apparently still teaches at Hollydale Elementary) would yell, "Do you know what time it is?!" The class would manically shriek back, "SHOVEL TIME!!!" Talking was absolutely forbidden the final five minutes—it was a deathly silent scarf fest.

    I don't know if I've ever been the same since. But as a nod to this classy ritual, I've adopted the humble scooping implement as my rating system's icon. Shovel on!
    ----------------------------------
    1 Shovel=Passing Fancy
    2 Shovels=Puppy Love
    3 Shovels=Crippling Crush
    4 Shovels=Serious Stalking

Ad it Up

*


« American Independence | Main | God's Eyes & Whippets »

What a Crock

Tuesday, I briefly watched fireworks from the BQE overpass conveniently located half a block away from the apartment. You could see part of the lower Manhattan show and the tops of the Macy's extravaganza, while being simultaneously treated to lots of honking and yelling from the traffic jams below your feet. You couldn't help but think this style of watching fireworks could only exist in Brooklyn. And I don't mean that in a proud way.

Shortcake I was more concerned with making an easy summery dessert to eat than being barraged by the sonic booms of illegal firecrackers shaking the neighborhood and setting off car alarms at intermittent intervals. The Two-Berry Shortcake from the July Gourmet seemed like good solution.

The red white and blue end result had nothing to do with patriotism. It should've been red white and black if I hadn't been a cheapskate and eschewed the pointlessly expensive blackberries for 2 for $4 blueberries. I still don't understand why berries are so spendy, especially when they're supposedly in season. It's not like I'm buying organic or shopping at farmers' markets.  I can't pay $4 for a pint.

But luckily, my favorite 24-hour produce shop tucked in amongst porn shops, Rossman Farms, came through again. Sure, all their fruit and vegetables are on the verge of turning, but $1.49 for a plastic container of raspberries (the same exact brand, Driscoll's, that I'd seen at Stop and Shop for $3.99 and Trader Joe's for nearly the same) is more than a bargain.

Crock Also accidentally carrying out the Americana theme, James slow cooked a bbq pork shoulder in the Crock Pot we purchased at Wal-Mart Monday for just such a purpose. (We stopped at a Toms River store, a peculiar little place where wearing pajama bottoms, tank tops and flip flops in public is standard and speed-freaky women purchase oddball items like smokers candles and enemas). I say Americana because the selection was fairly limited and the cheapest Crock Pot of a decent size came with country-style flowery embellishments. While mildly loathsome, I'm too thrifty to cough up the extra bucks for the inoffensive stainless steel version.  I'll just have to make sure and hide the crock away if company is over (which is next to never anyway).


Comments

It's so crazy that farmer's markets are expensive out there! I love going to farmer's markets around St. Louis because the produce tastes WAY better, and is much cheaper. By October I'm totally depressed because I have to go back to cardboard tomatoes and flavorless blackberries and raspberries. Maybe the premise of a "farmer's market" doesn't really apply on the east coast. Here, it really is farmers (or gardeners) selling their stuff just because they have too much. They're not really going to compete with the grocery stores for business, so everything is marked down pretty far. I've heard that out east you can get on like a produce delivery route, where they deliver fresh produce to your house each week for like $30 or something... Have you ever researched that?

Meredith --

We need to make a concerted effort to have Krista visit St Louis. Doesn’t her boyfriend work at the NY Fed or something? Surely he could finagle a working “vacation” at a St Louis Fed conference or something and bring her along. Enough with her far-flung vacations to exotic locales! Has she ever even set foot in the Midwest?

You could work the farmer’s markets – have you checked out the one in Ferguson yet? – and I could wow her with the chain-restaurant wonderland that is Boone’s Crossing Mall, a/k/a “The Valley,” along Highway Farty. Then we could meet up for St Louis style pizza with provolone cheese and side orders of toasted ravioli (once test-marketed by McDonalds, I recall).

I could also use a veteran’s opinion on the monte cristo served at Iron Barley.

If you go to St Louis...stay clear of Imos Pizza. It isn't really pizza.

What’s this? I go to work for a few hours and all of a sudden this has turned into a St. Louis fest. No, I’ve never been to the Midwest (but I have been in the St. Louis airport once or twice). I don’t get out much. Minus the full west coast, I’ve only been to a few mid-Atlantic and southern states. So far, I’ve manage to miss most of the middle, though not intentionally.

I’m not a very “green” person. I don’t clearly understand the dynamics and inner workings of farmers’ markets in NYC (or anywhere, for that matter) but blowing double digits on berries just seems wrong whatever the original intent of the market.

The produce delivery service is Urban Organic. I would be afraid that I wouldn’t use everything up fast enough (it seems like you get a lot of stuff for your $35) and I hate wasting food.

Verify your Comment

Previewing your Comment

This is only a preview. Your comment has not yet been posted.

Working...
Your comment could not be posted. Error type:
Your comment has been posted. Post another comment

The letters and numbers you entered did not match the image. Please try again.

As a final step before posting your comment, enter the letters and numbers you see in the image below. This prevents automated programs from posting comments.

Having trouble reading this image? View an alternate.

Working...

Post a comment

Advertising



Yes, it's come to this

    follow me on Twitter

    Categories

    Archives

    Search Me


    • Web Goodies First

    Project You