Yesterday, I met my friend D for a type of event that is one of the reasons I love San Francisco: a "literary" food contest at Omnivore Books, which, despite the fact that I'd read about it, I still wasn't sure what it would be. I love these events that surpass description - I knew it was free to enter and $5 to view, taste and judge, so I figured the worst that could happen is that I'd give up $5 to a very independent bookstore - Omnivore stocks pretty much ONLY books about food, from the modern to the vintage to the rare, and that alone should be supported.
Also, they were having the event in honor of Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, born April Fools Day 1755, one of the first famous gastronomes, right at the beginning of the birth of the restaurant as an actual institution. The Best Cheese in the World is named after him, Brillat Savarin, a triple cream that I desire at all times, and that had led me to say, on more than one occassion, quite seriously, "Cheese is a reason to live."
My friend D and I had bonded over good cheese early on in our relationship; he's someone I know from my singing circle, and only recently socially. On my first visit to his house, cheese helped smooth over that awkward moment you can feel when an aquaintence from work, school, etc is suddenly up for election as a friend, and no one knows quite if that is going to work out. But we bonded over the Mt. Tam Cowgirl Creamery I spotted in his kitchen. Even better, it was clearly not a passing fancy, as he'd owned a full round, rather than a wedge, of heavenly cheese that even, I, with a discount at an organic grocers, find too expensive to buy often. My point being, cheese can make you friends. (He also had a Codex Seraphinianus, a marvelous, addictive book so unknown, rare & specific that you kind of immediately love anyone who KNOWS about it, much less HAS one).
At any rate, D was game for this vague event. He looked a bit relieved when I appeared a few minutes before the stated 6pm "start time," because truthfully, there were only a few scattered folks and the contest entries slim. We spent the time browsing, until the place filled up, and eventually we had the pleasure of looking at and tasting such things as:
But there's this sort of TRUST in certain (urban) areas where you organize odd events. You know you live in a place where there's a lot of other people who self-identify as weirdoes, also like to go out and be active, AND are kind of up for just about anything. You go on Craigslist, and pretty much no matter WHAT strange, specific thing you are looking for, you can probably find at least a few people who want to do it with you.
I myself have actually pushed the limits TOO far, and gone too outside the realm of normal, past where people are interested. My two ideas? An all-ukulele Jesus Christ Superstar and a Plus-Size Star Trek Belly Dance troupe (well, you don't have to be plus sized but that was my vision). Sadly, I have not YET gotten anyone to join me but I have not given up. They are out there somewhere. I just know it.
It's also kin to another sort of big-city phenomenon I love, which is the experience of radically mis-judging public interest. When the De Young was open 24 hours for it's grand opening, I thought we could swing by at midnight - who'd be there, right? - but we were met by thousands of people, some of whom waited hours to wander a museum at 4am.
When I was in New York last time, I attended a few events that I naturally assumed would be crowded or at least popular, and then turned out of be one of the few people there. I remember well showing up at a Buddhist Center (on upper floor of a high-rise! Where will they put those zendos next?) and being greeted & robed by the lone monk who was glad someone came to sit zazen with himself & his assistant - rather like a priest saying a private mass or something. Where were all the New York Buddhists? I thought.
But San Francisco, New York, wherever - I feel grateful for ANY place where folks are active, interested, vibrant...where they come out to taste Lane Cakes and sweet salami even though they didn't know that's what they were going to do. They had faith in their community - SOMONE will join me. And pretty much, someone always does.
Also, they were having the event in honor of Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, born April Fools Day 1755, one of the first famous gastronomes, right at the beginning of the birth of the restaurant as an actual institution. The Best Cheese in the World is named after him, Brillat Savarin, a triple cream that I desire at all times, and that had led me to say, on more than one occassion, quite seriously, "Cheese is a reason to live."
My friend D and I had bonded over good cheese early on in our relationship; he's someone I know from my singing circle, and only recently socially. On my first visit to his house, cheese helped smooth over that awkward moment you can feel when an aquaintence from work, school, etc is suddenly up for election as a friend, and no one knows quite if that is going to work out. But we bonded over the Mt. Tam Cowgirl Creamery I spotted in his kitchen. Even better, it was clearly not a passing fancy, as he'd owned a full round, rather than a wedge, of heavenly cheese that even, I, with a discount at an organic grocers, find too expensive to buy often. My point being, cheese can make you friends. (He also had a Codex Seraphinianus, a marvelous, addictive book so unknown, rare & specific that you kind of immediately love anyone who KNOWS about it, much less HAS one).
At any rate, D was game for this vague event. He looked a bit relieved when I appeared a few minutes before the stated 6pm "start time," because truthfully, there were only a few scattered folks and the contest entries slim. We spent the time browsing, until the place filled up, and eventually we had the pleasure of looking at and tasting such things as:
- A Piet Mondrian sheet cake - kind of weird, as the true reds & blues of the artist, famous for Broadway BoogieWoogie, turned out to be a sort of pink and baby blue. Still, you got the idea.
- A mound of the most exquistely decorated cookies I've ever seen, all fruits & vegetables, from air-brushed (frosted) peaches to tiny asparagus stalks and radishes. These were so professionally done, D suggested we shouldn't vote for them as the maker was obviously a ringer.
- A "Faberege" egg cake which was clearly the work of a master pastry chef and in fact turned out to be the same person who submitted perfect cookies.
- "Salami" which was inspired by a book I didn't know, and was in fact, a dessert salami - made with almonds, dates, apricot & fig paste, some sort of rum, etc. This one knocked my socks off after I overcame my inital instinctive revolusion to a SWEET salami, because it looked identical to a savory one.
- A so-called Lane Cake, inspired by To Kill A Mockingbird, from Scout's remark that "Miss Maudie made a Lane cake so full of shinny it made me tight." It was indeed full of bourbon, and both D & I voted for it - it tasted the best AND was the most literary, and, eventually, won.
But there's this sort of TRUST in certain (urban) areas where you organize odd events. You know you live in a place where there's a lot of other people who self-identify as weirdoes, also like to go out and be active, AND are kind of up for just about anything. You go on Craigslist, and pretty much no matter WHAT strange, specific thing you are looking for, you can probably find at least a few people who want to do it with you.
I myself have actually pushed the limits TOO far, and gone too outside the realm of normal, past where people are interested. My two ideas? An all-ukulele Jesus Christ Superstar and a Plus-Size Star Trek Belly Dance troupe (well, you don't have to be plus sized but that was my vision). Sadly, I have not YET gotten anyone to join me but I have not given up. They are out there somewhere. I just know it.
It's also kin to another sort of big-city phenomenon I love, which is the experience of radically mis-judging public interest. When the De Young was open 24 hours for it's grand opening, I thought we could swing by at midnight - who'd be there, right? - but we were met by thousands of people, some of whom waited hours to wander a museum at 4am.
When I was in New York last time, I attended a few events that I naturally assumed would be crowded or at least popular, and then turned out of be one of the few people there. I remember well showing up at a Buddhist Center (on upper floor of a high-rise! Where will they put those zendos next?) and being greeted & robed by the lone monk who was glad someone came to sit zazen with himself & his assistant - rather like a priest saying a private mass or something. Where were all the New York Buddhists? I thought.
But San Francisco, New York, wherever - I feel grateful for ANY place where folks are active, interested, vibrant...where they come out to taste Lane Cakes and sweet salami even though they didn't know that's what they were going to do. They had faith in their community - SOMONE will join me. And pretty much, someone always does.
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