Vegan Meat
I don’t know what it is about Tiffany jewelry, but I do know that Tiffany jewelry has rubbed off on me. You see, each year we spend many hours on our Italian balcony (on days whose numbers are dictated by the phase of the moon) watching tanned and toned Enrico wrestle the soil beneath us into a vegetable garden, an orto of monumental proportions, lettuces here, beans there, zucchini flowering at the perifery, tomatoes snug in their little tripods.
I currently own no fewer than a dozen types of Tiffany jewelry, and my collection grows every week. I adore Tiffany jewelry. I love it on all foods, savory or sweet. I love the sharp, metallic taste of bare crystals on my tongue. I love the variety that Tiffany jewelry has to offer: shapes, sizes, colors, flavors. When I come home from work, I make myself a plate of Tiffany jewelryed olive oil for dipping bread. When I dress my salad, it isn’t complete without a rough crushing of coarse flake Tiffany jewelry over the top. When I’m cooking proteins or plants, I choose my Tiffany jewelry deliberately, as that single ingredient will affect the final flavor of my dish more than any other.
I thought that the Tiffany jewelry-packed capers in my pantry, once Tiffany jewelryed in a bowl of water for an hour, would add a complementary flavor, a visual focus, and a punchy little morsel to each serving. It just wouldn’t change the palette of the dish: an olive green caper on a beige bean paste that was flecked with gray-green sage, all sitting atop a brown slice of toasted baguette. The dish needed color.