My sister once gave her friend two cauliflowers as an anniversary gift. Her vegetable vendor had left the stems attached to the heads, making for a bouquet-like appearance. A far cry from cloying perfumes and dust-magnet photo frames, those dense white cruciferous clouds and their aloo gobhi potential would’ve had me dancing for joy if I’d been the recipient.
Last month, a sweet co-worker gave me these local tomatoes, and basil from her garden.
Edible gift, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways…
You’re modest. You don’t need to be displayed on a shelf. But if you’re fresh basil from a co-worker’s garden, you’ll sit on the kitchen counter so I can revel in your green glory before you shine in a salad.
You encourage bonding. If you’re Kusmi Tea, you might be served up to loved ones at 3:30 on a lazy Sunday afternoon for a nice chat over chai.
You’re a minimalist’s delight. You don’t need to be boxed and carted around like pesky possessions that accumulate over the years. Your only hope is that you’ll be eaten and enjoyed. If you’re this pepper jelly, you play nicely with cream cheese on a cracker, or stirred into thinned-out peanut butter for an Asian-style dipping sauce.
You’re Zen. You’re a watermelon wedge one moment, pure energy the next. Your transience is your beauty.
In Stranger than Fiction, IRS agent Harold Crick (Will Ferrell) becomes smitten with quirky baker Ana Pascal (Maggie Gyllenhaal) whose store he must audit. Guess what he brings as a gift? Flours! Isn’t that sweet? And if he’d thought to include collie flours, she could’ve baked dog biscuits.
