So I’ve been on a peach-eating roll. For a guy who has a blog about peaches, this might not come as much of a surprise but whatevs. Peach # 2 was by far the best. I wasn’t expecting it to be very good because it seemed a little hard and unripe, yet once I took the first bite I found it to be soft, sweet, and juicy right down to those little fibrous bits clinging to the stone. The peach was subtle enough for me to grasp the shades of flavor underneath the sweetness – when a peach is too sweet, I find you can’t really taste the floweriness that comes from a perfect peach. The other peaches were good – but nothing to write home about. I ate a couple walking out of the house on my way to trying to find a job – and having peach juice covering your hands is actually a pretty good strategy to impress future employers, I’ve found.
I walked into the local farmer’s market today to pick up peaches, having wild daydreams about how I would get to write ecstatic post after post about the amazing, heavenly, natural organic Boulder peaches that I found there. Well. Silly old me. Peaches don’t grow around here in Boulder. What does grow around here – it seems – are the usual trappings of hippy life. And while the trappings may be a bit clichéd, they’re still fine and dandy to an Iowan cornhusker like me. How can you get bored with all the idealism, the bare midriffs, the tasty, presumably healthy, sustainable, raw, cracked, buddhadharma, organic expensive food? Probably pretty easily. But walking around the packed farmer’s market, dodging people in the crowd so well I wish it were a spectator sport, I wasn’t bored in the least. I was pretty content. I wished there were some damned peaches, though.
Other things grow around here, too, besides youthful idealism: cheese, mixed veggies, salsa, coffee, and good food, exercise as personal virtue, wine bars, attractive people. The things that make up the constellation of comfortable old bourgeoisie life – the good parts of bougie life, mind you: none of that guilt or social relevance for me, thank you.
But then again I’m on a budget. I shy away from the tasty plates of Thai food, the micro-brews, the mesclun salad, and eat only peaches, cottage cheese, and cans of tuna. And try to find a job. One day I’ll get to order a seven dollar muffin from that ritzy cafe. But not today.
Here’s an idea: I’ll set up a pay-pal account one of these days, and whoever puts money into it will sponsor me going out to a restaurant and ordering exactly what they tell me to and I'll reviewing the whole experience – with panache, of course! and color! and lyricism! and I'll toss in some metaphors, too! Good idea, Brendan! We’ll see how it works. More later. And more peaches.
Peach score (overall): 7.5