The masochistic foodie in me

My stomach is growling, I can totally sit here on the gravel parking lot and eat a can of chili as a marvel at my mud speckled legs and just relax, but I’m in Napa and I want to eat good food, I know I can’t eat anything here, but the masochist in me pushes me into my car and drives my sorry redneck muddy self to Yountville.

I know summer has officially begun, because I am driving shirtless, my mountain bike is on my roof caked in mud, the Dead is blaring from my radio and both windows are down throwing my hair into a frenzy. It’s the 5th day this week that I have ridden my bike, my second day of mountain biking in a row and my third day that I’ve been able to drive shirtless and get an early start on my seat belt tan line.

I think my greatest taiva is for food, I pass by Bouchon Bakery and start thinking about bread and cheese and fresh muffins, it’s really all wrong to be here. This is not a place for a frum Jew who likes good food, it’s like putting a sex addict in a porn store – yet I am here – willingly holding my yetzer harah in check as I walk down the street looking for some sort of Yuppie Market, where I’m sure to find some fine cheese, crackers and maybe some chocolate. I may not be able to eat at Redd, Mustard’s or The French Laundry, but I might as well eat something nice while I’m in Napa eh?

It’s a real shame I cannot find a nice bottle of kosher white wine in the Yountville Market (where is Covenant when you need em) , but I do find some nice kosher goat cheese, some crackers, a bar of Scharfenberger chocolate (well worth the $4) and some hippie peach elixir tea – all of which costs me $13.16 – which I eat shirtless while sitting on the tailgate of my car. Rented luxury car after another drives down the main street, windows tightly closed, sunglasses blocking their eyes as I enjoy the weather and eat my cheese and ritz crackers.