I don’t want to scare you, but I’m a picky eater. It was pretty bad when I was living in NYC, with chef friends and a wonderful array of restaurants to choose from. Yes, I was spoiled… just about anything I wanted to eat I ate. Some people may call that being a food snob, but the friends I hung out with completely understood the food obsession. When I got married and moved away from NYC, I had to tone it down a bit. Not everyone has the same experiences or food knowledge and though I haven’t compromised my love for certain things, compromises needed to be made. My husband is the complete opposite of me when it comes to food, but in his defense I have to say that he is learning to appreciate “good food.” Do I sound like a food snob? Maybe. Do I care? Not so much.

When I used to work at, a now super popular and wildly successful, restaurant in Carroll Gardens I learned a thing or two about food. I would sometimes accompany the chef to the farmers’ market at Union Square, to pick up some fresh produce and whatever else he could find. He’s brilliant in the kitchen and has one of the most amazing palettes I’ve ever come across. One of the biggest reasons my love for local and organic/biodynamic products has grown to mammoth proportions was because of him. I should say “them” actually because his partner was also brilliant. Granted she was really tough to work with, being as she was extremely demanding and perfectionistic. But tasting her desserts, you could almost imagine what heaven would be like.

I won’t mention the exact place right now because when I worked there, I was younger and still at university and I left abruptly to persue another job. Basically, I think I burned that bridge. Not something I have ever done again. Silly me, but I really do plan to visit them when I return to New York. Hopefully, they have forgiven my ridiculousness. Sigh. Anyway, the memories of working there popped in my head today. Perhaps this was triggered by the simple yet delicious lunch that I was having today.

There are two particular times, when I worked there, that really stick out in my head. Granted there are so many amazing moments, but these unfolded intriciately in my head while I was eating.
The first was when I was really feeling awful and called in sick, but then called in again to make a reservation for myself because I didn’t want to cook. I’m sure they found it weird, but they welcomed me with open arms and fed me a meal that I (much to my grateful surprise) didn’t need to pay for. I didn’t even have to order from the menu because they sent out a perfect vegetarian plate with chicken soup and fresh bread. They were like family, in some ways, and I really miss the dynamics.

The second was on 9/11. I was good friends with another girl who worked there and we both lived down the street from each other and walking distance from the restaurant. That morning, we were all calling each other and were frantic. We couldn’t reach anyone for a while and my friend just walked over and we both went to the restaurant. It was a somber day, of course, and they decided to close. Instead, just about everyone who worked there sat down for a “family meal.” This was after we all were trying to figure out a way to help and to our shock, they had turned us all away because there were TOO MANY volunteers already. Crazy. Those two particular moments really kill me… such times!

I like good food and I suppose that term could be different for everyone. Good food to me means that it’s prepared in the most thoughtful way in order to showcase the products’ natural flavors and not mask them. Good food to me is using as much local and organic/biodynamic (and seasonal) products as possible. Good food to me is the amazing ability of a chef to pair dishes with the perfect wines/drinks.

So, I’m a picky eater because I know what I like and I want to know where my food comes from. Simple and delicious fresh dishes are best. When I get some weird cravings for fast food or what have you… I eat it. Then afterwards I realize how crappy it is. I haven’t had any cravings lately, thankfully, and perhaps it’s more of a mental thing. Why would I choose to put that in my body when I have far tastier options? No reason at all for me.

So, please don’t be afraid if you ever want to invite me out to eat at your home or wherever. I won’t bite your head off if it’s not at/or from an organic/biodynamic farm or what have you. But I’m definitely a picky eater and proud of it.