If the Terminator couldn't eat wheat...

He'd want meatballs without flour or breadcrumbs.  With a big fat bowl and cold cold hands, a hot pan and  the sound of xBox killing away in the background; I've invented the best meatballs for the apocalypse.  I have no photos of this task, these gems that drown in sauce and noodles.  But I do have a recipe.

*Meatballs*

500g extra lean ground beef

2 shallots, diced

2 garlic cloves, crushed

salt and pepper - lots

1tbsp buckwheat flour

1 organic free range happiest egg ever 

oregano, basil, and some dried crushed chiles 

Squished in a bowl till bound together, formed into balls, and sauted in olive oil on med. heat for 15-20 minutes.  Lumped with rice pasta, sauce, red peppers, and mushrooms in apure white porcelain dish.

Eaten while watching Terminator.  Followed by dark chocolate and more xBox.

Cinnamon toast.

grapefruits in the street

Walking out of a yoga class and peeling a grapefruit while trying to maneuver a jean jacket, yoga sack, and duffle bag. Peeling and messing around, struggling and squinting. Late afternoon sun in a busy street, rush hour, maybe ten minutes after a brief assault of rain. Officey types on their way home squinting at me as I squint back. I'm trying to seem more hilarious and entertaining than pathetically uncoordinated. I don't even need a picture of this to know that it was ridiculous. The grapefruit is so good, and I'm so awkward, and so happy. My legs and hips so relieved from the previous hour of stretching after a day of sitting and before that a week of not working and camping, listening and reading. Not stretching.

The last thing I ate before this...was a granola bar, and a chocolate turtle. And some kind of chocolate covered nut. And my hands are so sticky after from the pith of fruit. I consider putting my hands into the puddles on the edge of the street and sidewalk to be able to wipe them....on....my jean jacket. And this is exactly what I do after looking behind me and scanning for people who would care about what I'm doing.

This is an invitation

We eat everyday.
Living and eating and living and sleeping....on and on.
We invest time, effort, money to eat, and consequently form emotive connection to the process of cooking and the act of eating. Whether you are eating in your home, in a restaurant, in a park, on a bench, or while walking down the street the experience is riddled with moments of revelation, decision, memory, feeling, instinctual reactions, and personal expectations that mostly are left unspoken. Sometimes ignored or forgotten.

These thoughts and reactions, gut responses to food might be interesting to track.

Let's collect reviews &/or photographs of your grocery store trauma, the disgusting salad you made on Tuesday morning for work, the oh so beautiful crab apple fights you've had in your backyard, or the most prefectly satisfying hung-over breakfast you've ever had. It all counts. It all helps us to uncover the best place for cheap breakfast that will inspire us to live great days and aspire to maybe even evaluating where and why we're eating.

So, review everything. From 5 star to no stars. Indoor or outdoor, public or private.

*to gain permission to post reviews in this blog, please e-mail platepeople@gmail.com*