Taste for a Red Bouncy BallPosted on June 23, 2008
Here are two things that happened within a half an hour of each other: first, I was in a book store looking for a gift when I spied a rack of books that, for lack of a better description, can only be said to be books of lists meant to help people live better lives. Titles like: "1001 Ways to Reward Employees," "1001 Ways to be Romantic," and "1001 Ways to Market Your Book." This last one shot me into some weird parallel universe where a Zippy-like feedback loop of confusion reined king. Can you buy a book called "1001 Ways to Market Your Book" in a bookstore where authors have written books and marketed them to you? My head spinning, I found a book, got to my car and drove home. In San Francisco, at a stoplight near South Beach, I could see a kickball game in full swing. A cadre of men and women with intense looks on their faces were running the bases and flinging a big-textured red bouncy ball at each other with such fervor that I was transported back to 5th grade elementary school. The plastic-and-stale-air smell of the ball during recess; the dull-rubber-timpani-reverb sound of that perfect kick; the post-kickball challenges of a wall ball tournament where champions slammed or spun their fist-driven hits against a brick wall like it was the Olympics (no waterfalls or babies or you're automatically out). As I was pulled back to reality by the sound of the horn blaring behind me I had a minor epiphany: our lives are crazed - there are a 1001 ways to do everything and 1001 people writing 1001 books about how to do it. No wonder there is nostalgia for the "old days" where kickball games were the meaning of life.
Experience through food brings us back to times of simplicity and meaning. This week in the East Coast office fruit delivery crates, we have fresh blueberries from New Jersey. The farm is near one where, as a kid, I used to go pick blueberries right off the plants. My sister Erin, our East Coast buyer, says that these blues rival her own memories of sun-warmed fruit bursting in her mouth. In the West Coast crates, we have the first run of white apricots - you may have seen these mentioned in the June 18th New York Times food section - they are from a California grower who has very limited acreage. We've been buying these very special apricots from this farmer for your office fruit crates for the last few years and think they will give you life-long taste memories.
Also: The FruitGuys has raised more than $7,400 for Slow Food Nation through the sale of our monthly Slow Food boxes. These have a great mix of sustainably-farmed produce and support the non-profit SFN which works to introduce more people to California's delicious sustainable agriculture. So good. Check out the mix here. California delivery only.
As usual, you can explore your office crate here.
Enjoy and be fruitful!