Within a 10 minute Bike ride
I live a block off State Street in a little log cabin. I have come to refer to my noisy, congested and sometimes-violent neighbor as the little monster. The four-lane beast runs east and west connecting Boise, Eagle, Star and Middleton transforming these little towns into one big town all suckling off the State Street tit. The other day, Amy and I decided to explore our neighborhood breakfast options on State Street.
We started at The Lift and then quickly moved on to Eddie’s Diner. I will mention that the servers at both restaurants had great conversational skills and friendly smiles. From my observations, I concur that genuine smiles do not correlate with the quality of food. None of the servers came across with that used car salesperson disposition. The servers aren’t having conversations like,
“Hey Johnny, I’m gonna charge this guy $8.00 and feed him processed crap. Let’s see if he catches on that I just sold him canned beans and mushrooms.”
“Hey Johnny, my table just asked for maple syrup, so I gave them syrup that has no maple, only chemical flavoring. HA! HA! Cutting corners. Making money for the man.”
I believe servers can honestly sell their product with a smile because they have to assume the diners know they are ordering substandard food. For instance, at my place of employment, sometimes a customer will order a large hot chocolate with caramel syrup and extra whipped cream followed by a pointing pudgy parental finger at the rice crispy treat. The parent loudly declares so that the people in line can hear, “you’ve been such a good boy not complaining about taking your medication and passing your 4th grade standardized tests. You get the biggest and fattest treat.” The parent pats the kid on the head and thinks, “my child will never academically be left behind. Walking – now, that’s another story. My little whippersnapper must have an out of whack thyroid.”
At my job I assume the parents know the type of food they are buying puts their children at a greater risk for certain diseases and the purchase is simply motivated by the greater good of cheapness, oral fixations, and education. I happily hand over the congratulatory snack of diabetes. I can do this with a genuine smile and without my conscious bothering me because diabetes is a small price to pay if it’s the snack that motivates learning. I can deal with cracked heals and obesity but not stupidity. Big tobacco should lobby to have cigarettes used as a motivation for education. Once again here is my motto: I can deal with long-winded hacking and smelly breath but not stupidity.
Enough of this madness — no more wasting writing about the dysfunction of the food industry! I am going to take a positive approach and not take the typical lazy American approach of diddling time away; waiting for new legislation, a new president, a new religion, a new Dr. Phil or a new self help book to promote change in my life.
Within a 10-minute bike ride of our cabin, sandwiched roughly between Albertson’s and Wal-Mart is a beautiful world of omelet fine dining. For delicious omelet ingredients, there are three farms that have an abundance of vegetables and chicken eggs. The farms are City Gardens, Earthly Delights, and Peaceful Belly. In addition, Smokey Davis offers a selection of smoked meats and cheeses. Finally, for the perfect omelet setting there’s the Boise River that runs parallel to the little monster.
On my way to the Boise River, I stopped at Turner’s. This locally owned store offers a plethora of fishing gear next to a bar where a patron can get a shot of Old Crow Whiskey and a bottle PBR for $5. I figured if Turner’s did not sell some sort of conventional fuel, I could by some Vodka to burn.
To turn eggs into omelets, thanks to Back Bone Media and Tracy Wilson, I had a Brunton Vapor AF All Fuel Expedition Stove. The biggest selling point about the Vapor AF is that it can burn basically any type of fuel including butane, bio diesel and jet fuel. As a traveler, I enjoy the peace of mind knowing wherever I go there will be fuel that is compatible with the stove. Once I had figured out how to operate the stove, the flame became as easy to control as a conventional kitchen stove.
So here it is – one of the finest omelets I have ever eaten – a spinach, Idaho trout, and havarti dill cheese omelet made along the Boise River within minutes of the little monster and its big box stores.