The Weekend Update


So far we’ve slept a little, eaten a little, and I’ve worked on homework.  Can I screw up a vacation or what?  Yeah, that’s me.  Funsucker extraordinaire!  Yeah, I know, there are worse things.  Far worse.  But still, I’m studying.  No matter how nice the jail is, you’re still in it, right?  My thoughts anyway.  But doing what I must, when I must apparently has become my new mantra… WTF?  Who am I, what have I become, and where is the pod?

As for the food consumed so far?  And you know there’s food, we’re in Asheville after all.  And, of course, like all good Asheville trips, this one started at the North Asheville Tailgate Market.  If you really want to fall in love with organic?  This is the place.  A bag of homemade Rosemary Herb Crackers from some crunchy hippie girl… they’re delish! Tomme Cheese made from  Goat & Sheep’s milk from Three Graces Dairy – and yes, another older crunchy hippie woman, equally as delicious.  And a grand finale of Salami from Hickory Nut Gap Farms – no crunchy hippies there but it is organic meat and cruelty-free so there’s that.  I can honestly state that if I lived here full-time my shopping would be mostly done there, every week.  I really wanted to get Garlic Scapes… just to experiment with, but I didn’t think they’d survive the trip.  Likewise I wanted to buy two of every herb there was there… I didn’t.

Restraint.  I haz it.

After all that joy, and a side trip to Old World Bakery the next obvious step was to… go out to dinner.  Of course.  I know that’s what seems logical, right?  And, as usual, we went to Vinnie’s, where I had a Cuba Libre Martini with homemade Cola Syrup no less.  Yum.  Should have had two, or three.  Note to self – do this next time, especially if the whole famdamily is with us.  Especially then.  Pre-medicate with wine too.  It will be easier.

But back to Dinner which, as always, was amazing.  Ribeye topped with Gorgonzola, grilled Vidalia, and Arugula dressed in a lemon vinaigrette. Plus I had the grilled Caesar… nomnomnom.  And today there’s more food on the horizon… more food.  Wow.  Imagine.  Shocking.  Brunch at Avenue M, then grilling hotdogs here at the house.  Hoping to sneak in a visit to French Broad Chocolate Lounge… that’s my plan anyway.  And I’m also planning on not doing any more homework.  That seems like a good thing as well.

With all that, did I mention yet that I love it here?  Did I forget?  I’ll try to take more pictures and do less homework today… but I can’t guarantee that.  Wish me luck.  Right now though I’m going to find a cup of coffee and some eye makeup remover.  Then I’ll be ready to face the day.  This vacation is hard work, yo? Enjoy.


The sights, sounds, and smells of Asheville…

The tang of Goat cheese as it oozes out of an Omelet and slides into the salty sweetness of the Sea Scallops sitting quivery and golden, and the peppery sharpness of the Chipotle Hollandaise that is pooled under them like creamy yellow sunshine poured straight from the summer sky.

The tang of applewood smoke that you only taste in the very first bite of Bacon, and the salty richness that is the fat released from it’s crusty bonds as you bite into the very best gift a Pig could give us, along with his life.

The toothachy sweetness of the first bit of Sugar crust on Creme Brûlée, and the decadent smoothness, combined with the sharp bite of the dark chocolate filling in that same creamy treat.

Opening the door to the smell of knowledge, mixed with crisp, sun-bleached paper and old ink, and walking through the stacks of used books that you haven’t yet read, and the sharp smell of excitement, peppery and fast, as you choose a selection from the shelf and start to open the cover of a different place.

The sticky, different-tasting sweetness of Agave, melded with the tangy zest of citrus, mixed with the crisp bite of soda water in a homemade soda concoction like nothing Coca-Cola will ever be able to bottle and sell.

The slightly acrid smell of patchouli and young bodies that are likely not as clean as their parents would prefer wafting from a darkened shop that makes you pause at the door and simultaneously wonder whether you are too old to shop there and hope you are not.

The screechy sound that fiddle strings make as a bow saws across them.  When you hear that sound you can also smell the pangs of hunger mixed with slight desperation as a street musician attempts to earn enough change to get him a good meal and a few beers in a town with far too many musicians and not enough paying customers.

The stinging scent of hairspray and cigarettes, mixed with the soulful smell of longing to belong to someone emanating from the group of young hipster girls posing like 1950′s pinups on the sidewalk outside of a darkened club.

The smell of contentment, which resembles vanilla, but with a tiny pinch of cinnamon and a splash of nutmeg, wafting over us as we walk together, where we are still in love.

The sharp stinging salty scent of sadness, like Methiolate, staining my heart pink, as I remember why I love this beautiful place and remember the many people I’ve shared it in the past who can’t share it with me anymore.

The crisp green and swirly blueness of Summer – like apples, and sun dried sheets, and the sweet trickle of sugary water from the first popsicle of May.

Find your sights, your sounds, and your smells – such are the stuff of memories, the stuff of life.  Hold onto them.  And when you smell them again, remember.