ODG Eats

 I went grocery shopping Saturday, and, I've gotta say, I got a little miffed at Kroger. And by "a little miffed," I mean really fucking pissed. I'm trying to find as good of a balance as possible among flavor, affordability, convenience, and nutrition. I really wanted some onions, and there were no canned onions. Then I realized I don't think I've ever seen canned onions, so I Googled it. Turns out, canned onions don't hold up well. And then I found myself in the produce section looking at onions when I saw a box, $5, EBT eligible, of julienned onions but no indication of how much onion was in the box, so I grabbed a box and threw it in the scale. About 0.6lb for $5. The same onion, whole, cost $1.39/lb. That means they're selling 83 cents of onion for $5. That's about a 500% markup. In more real world terms, if it takes you 5 minutes to slice an onion, spending $5 on that sliced onion is reasonable if you earn $50/hr. So, long story short, they...

 I used to drive a 1986 pickup truck that was a heap of trouble on wheels. Mind you, I learned to drive in 2002. That piece of shit loved to just, you know, die. In the middle of intersections. While turning onto side streets. While accelerating from a stop sign. While braking for a stop sign. While cranking. It just died whenever it felt like it. It had AM radio and hand crank windows. That's literally it. No FM, no AC or heat. There were seatbelts for 2 of the 3 seats. I fucking hated that truck. On the other hand, it was my truck. I drove it to church, to work, and to the library; that was as far as I was allowed to take it, and I took it all of those places. I remember the first time I got it to idle while parked. I remember singing "The Prayer" over its dying engine multiple times. I think my younger brother probably has some flashbacks of some of those moments. But, as old, beaten up, shitty, annoying, and objectively terrible as it was, it sure was nice to have it ...

About a month ago, I cooked up a big pot of a miso vegan stew. It was a Sunday evening, so I knew I needed to cook enough for Sunday night dinner and Monday's lunch. A vendor was taking us out for dinner on Monday, so I needed enough to cover Tuesday's lunch, too. I had plans with a friend on Tuesday night, so I wouldn't have time to cook, so I needed enough for Tuesday dinner and Wednesday lunch, too, so I said, and I quote, "Fuck it. I'll just cook enough for the week." Unfortunately, as I packed away my leftovers that night, I realized that I cooked enough for a week and a half. Normally, that wouldn't be a huge issue, except that I was leaving town Friday morning and wouldn't be back until Monday evening and did not have room in my freezer to store more than a bowl. Luckily, I was able to pawn a few bowls off on coworkers, so it all worked out alright. However, when I told this story to someone close to me, they said I should think about donating t...

Part 1 the morning after, while eating a sausage, egg, and cheese everything bagel from Bergen Bagels Last night, I had the pleasure, privilege, and audacity to eat at a Brooklyn restaurant named Aska . I know it's cliche to refer to a fancy restaurant meal as a life-changing experience, but this was straight up paradigm-shattering. I've written before about food being a medium of communication, about how I strive to reduce food waste as much as I can, about sharing our cultures and stories with each other through the meals we create, but seeing how Chef Fredrik Berselius is able to do this at such an intricate, elegant, and elevated level is both humbling and inspiring. The experience started before the first bite. I walked into the 10 table restaurant, and they knew me by name. I was shown to my table (right in the middle of the place, looking directly into the open kitchen), and they even pulled my chair out for me and pushed it up under me. I was a little uncomfortable with...