“Farmers’ Market.” There was a time when the phrase would invoke an image of your quirky middle school physics teacher heading into town on a tandem bike carrying empty hemp-knit bags to pick up his weekly stock of unpronounceable root vegetables. That era has passed
Oh, brunch. Anyone who has spent more than 15 minutes with me on a Friday, Saturday or Sunday knows that brunch is my favorite weekend leisure activity. It would also be my favorite weekday activity were it not for “being enrolled in classes.”
Today, the sandwich is much more than the meal of choice for gambling addicted earls and their personal staffs. It’s become the official food of elementary school students and the elderly alike--according to Google, the average American currently eats a staggering 193 sandwiches a year. To borrow “30 Rock’s” Liz Lemon’s official worldview, “All of humankind has one thing in common. The sandwich. I believe that all anyone really wants in this life is to sit in peace and eat a sandwich."
How many high-end frozen yogurt stores can one town sustain before it reaches critical mass and the entire community is consumed by fire and brimstone, a la Sodom and Gomorrah? Over the past few years, our charming town of Palo Alto has been actively engaged in trying to answer that question. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if a frozen yogurt store opened in the bathroom of an existing frozen yogurt store.
There’s only one cool thing about getting the flu in my book, and that’s the excuse to throw on sweatpants and drive to Pho Via Hoa in Mountain View for cheap, bucket-sized portions of pho.
In fact, my constant jabber about “Phil” is actually in reference to Philz Coffee, a Bay Area coffee chain so good that it engenders frightening addictions and a cultish following.