Explaining a frittata to a customer:
"What is it?" he asked.
"Like, an, uh, egg brick with some stuff in it." I offered. Sensing that this was probably not the most appetizing sales pitch, I quickly tried again. "It's basically an omelet, only baked in to a square, rather than folded in a pan." Better.
He decided that he would buy a blueberry scone instead. Safe. And I had never described it to him as something you might use to build a chimney. Perhaps that helped too.
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
January 30, 2013
December 6, 2012
Let Them Make Cake
Figs in a scone is some sort of minor revolution it seems, a shocking development on the bleeding edge of pastry science. Anyway, it confused the hell out of people today. Verbatim, one asked: "Can you even do that?" I replied that yes, I could and did - or rather the baker did - and told her she should probably eat it. She did, and loved it.
Had it been blueberry, there would have been no questions, no cringes, neither shock nor awe that we had dared put such an exotic(?) fruit inside a scone. But we had, and so there was. Different is different, but people react in the same ways.
The same, as when we, whatever deity you like forbid, dare put "vegan" on the label for a baked good. To do so is to condemn said baked good to sit lonely on the shelf, until such time as it's eaten by the staff or given away to some very nice hippie folks who compost our coffee grounds. I do not think that anyone has ever eaten a brownie and thought to themselves that they would like more egg flavor, but perhaps I'm mistaken.
The victim today was the so-called "vegan breakfast cake", a brand new item which I will try desperately to rename, since honey (the sweetener in said cake) is not technically vegan, even if it does seem to be considered kinda sorta maybe ok by many in the community. But even disregarding that, we had sold absolutely none of it, since anyone who inquired about the name only seemed to do so in order to mock the very notion of dairy/egg free cake, and insist that it must taste like cardboard paste.
So I called it carrot cake (which it is, basically, without the frosting), and people bought it, ate it, loved it. No one complained about the lack of eggs.
If it seems like I care a bit too much about this, it's because maybe I do. We have a baker, a real human with a real stove for whom making awesome pastries is her life's work. Sometimes she makes things that do not have blueberries, and that's ok, because new can be exciting and delicious in ways you didn't know were possible. Figs in a scone? Cake without eggs? Fucking right.
I'm not saying trust everyone. Some places make awful drinks and awful food and deserve your doubt and derision. But some places make good drinks and good food that has never seen the inside of a freezer truck. Some places care because making good things is what they do, and a very real part of who they are. Trust them. They won't serve you something they don't truly believe in.
Had it been blueberry, there would have been no questions, no cringes, neither shock nor awe that we had dared put such an exotic(?) fruit inside a scone. But we had, and so there was. Different is different, but people react in the same ways.
The same, as when we, whatever deity you like forbid, dare put "vegan" on the label for a baked good. To do so is to condemn said baked good to sit lonely on the shelf, until such time as it's eaten by the staff or given away to some very nice hippie folks who compost our coffee grounds. I do not think that anyone has ever eaten a brownie and thought to themselves that they would like more egg flavor, but perhaps I'm mistaken.
The victim today was the so-called "vegan breakfast cake", a brand new item which I will try desperately to rename, since honey (the sweetener in said cake) is not technically vegan, even if it does seem to be considered kinda sorta maybe ok by many in the community. But even disregarding that, we had sold absolutely none of it, since anyone who inquired about the name only seemed to do so in order to mock the very notion of dairy/egg free cake, and insist that it must taste like cardboard paste.
So I called it carrot cake (which it is, basically, without the frosting), and people bought it, ate it, loved it. No one complained about the lack of eggs.
If it seems like I care a bit too much about this, it's because maybe I do. We have a baker, a real human with a real stove for whom making awesome pastries is her life's work. Sometimes she makes things that do not have blueberries, and that's ok, because new can be exciting and delicious in ways you didn't know were possible. Figs in a scone? Cake without eggs? Fucking right.
I'm not saying trust everyone. Some places make awful drinks and awful food and deserve your doubt and derision. But some places make good drinks and good food that has never seen the inside of a freezer truck. Some places care because making good things is what they do, and a very real part of who they are. Trust them. They won't serve you something they don't truly believe in.
July 23, 2012
Muffin Anxiety
You can see it in how they stand, how they purse their lips and avoid your eyes. There is consternation written on their face, guilt about ordering what they want. Watch a customer eye a muffin, a starchy wad of forbidden fruit, delicious, decadent, but no, so much sugar, so much fat. They glance back and forth, say that they shouldn't, hoping you'll coax them one way or another. And you stand there, neutral.
This will probably not come as a surprise to anyone that knows me at all, but to others, perhaps this needs to be made clear: I am a bit of a health and fitness nut. I have very definitive opinions on how food quality fits in to that picture. However, despite that, my role at the coffee bar is not as a personal trainer or weight loss coach. I'll answer questions about ingredients honestly and clearly, but won't offer an opinion. It's simply not my place.
And yet I don't think that knowledge would help those customers. Paradoxically, we're a society that provides access to nearly endless decadence, and yet values abstinence from those things. Our hypothetical customer may want a mocha and a scone, but will abstain simply to show that they can.
We see this in a group setting. The faces and apprehensions are more exaggerated, as are the claims of how bad they want this particular food item, and how much they love it, but they can't, just can't, and so they won't. People want you, and everyone else, to know how bad they want the muffin, and thus how impressive it is that they can resist. It's flexing your willpower, not unlike the guy who makes love to his own image in the weight room mirror.
To be sure, this is a first world problem, and decadence in itself. To have the ability to decline calorie dense food is a luxury, and moreover, a suggestion of willpower. The resolute person is thin, because they're strong enough to make it so. This, of course, is a trait to be sought, and so we do.
Of course, I say all of this as a skinny guy, and not by accident. My friends are well aware that there are many things I won't eat, so they stopped offering me hot wings a long time ago. So I am not, in any way, criticizing the pursuit of health. Our bodies are all we really own, and there is nothing more important than what we do with them, and what we choose to fuel them with. It can be a decision fraught with guilt, with media pressure and personal values all coalescing. It can be complicated, and I get that.
But while it can be all of those things, it most certainly needn't be public drama. Order the latte with skim, soy, whole, whatever. Have the muffin or don't. Have whatever you want for whatever reasons you want.
And then, having what you want, relax. The freedom of choice is a beautiful thing. That we have everything from espresso to Coke to mochas to orange juice to plain black coffee is a beautiful thing. That the hardest decision you have to make in a given day is whether or not to eat a muffin is a beautiful thing. That you can basically eat or drink whatever you want is an unbelievable luxury, one the vast majority of humanity will never know. So at the very least, enjoy it. Guilt is not delicious.
This will probably not come as a surprise to anyone that knows me at all, but to others, perhaps this needs to be made clear: I am a bit of a health and fitness nut. I have very definitive opinions on how food quality fits in to that picture. However, despite that, my role at the coffee bar is not as a personal trainer or weight loss coach. I'll answer questions about ingredients honestly and clearly, but won't offer an opinion. It's simply not my place.
And yet I don't think that knowledge would help those customers. Paradoxically, we're a society that provides access to nearly endless decadence, and yet values abstinence from those things. Our hypothetical customer may want a mocha and a scone, but will abstain simply to show that they can.
We see this in a group setting. The faces and apprehensions are more exaggerated, as are the claims of how bad they want this particular food item, and how much they love it, but they can't, just can't, and so they won't. People want you, and everyone else, to know how bad they want the muffin, and thus how impressive it is that they can resist. It's flexing your willpower, not unlike the guy who makes love to his own image in the weight room mirror.
To be sure, this is a first world problem, and decadence in itself. To have the ability to decline calorie dense food is a luxury, and moreover, a suggestion of willpower. The resolute person is thin, because they're strong enough to make it so. This, of course, is a trait to be sought, and so we do.
Of course, I say all of this as a skinny guy, and not by accident. My friends are well aware that there are many things I won't eat, so they stopped offering me hot wings a long time ago. So I am not, in any way, criticizing the pursuit of health. Our bodies are all we really own, and there is nothing more important than what we do with them, and what we choose to fuel them with. It can be a decision fraught with guilt, with media pressure and personal values all coalescing. It can be complicated, and I get that.
But while it can be all of those things, it most certainly needn't be public drama. Order the latte with skim, soy, whole, whatever. Have the muffin or don't. Have whatever you want for whatever reasons you want.
And then, having what you want, relax. The freedom of choice is a beautiful thing. That we have everything from espresso to Coke to mochas to orange juice to plain black coffee is a beautiful thing. That the hardest decision you have to make in a given day is whether or not to eat a muffin is a beautiful thing. That you can basically eat or drink whatever you want is an unbelievable luxury, one the vast majority of humanity will never know. So at the very least, enjoy it. Guilt is not delicious.
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