It occurred to me today that "vegetable" as a metaphor for a person who is clinically comatose, i.e. brain activity registers but a blip on the radar, or employing any of "vegetable's" pseudo-slang derivatives like "veg out" to refer to other some such similar figurative non-functional state of mind, is completely incongruous.
In fact, do I dare say "ignorant?"
I dare.
Which ignoramus in the history of the development of our language completely blew off the class field trip to the Farmers’ Market and decided to equate “vegetable” – a word that encompasses an entire family of vibrant, colorful, living things – with a coma? If anything at all, the more appropriate analogy would be between a lumpy, rotting mass of grey matter and say, a steak. A steak comes from a dead cow. Comatose means “brain dead.” They even share the same word in their definitions – “dead.” Doesn’t a steak make more sense than a tomato? Better yet, brain-dead should be bologna. Not only is bologna an unliving thing, but bologna is just confusing.
“I’m sorry, honey. The doctors did everything they could. He’s going to be bologna for the rest of his life.”
This is precisely the type of thought I process when I am, indeed, rendered a vegetable the day following a naughty night out.
Now, I can’t tell you in detail why I was so out of it today without completely compromising my dignity. Instead, let’s just take a peek at the Larchmont Farmers’ Market, which takes over a parking lot on Larchmont Boulevard between First and Beverly every Sunday from 10 am to 2 pm.
Normally, I would never go as far East as Larchmont for a Farmers’ Market. There is at least one Farmers’ Market every day from Tuesday through Sunday somewhere on the Westside and I am all about being “local.” However, Sunday in Larchmont Village was a special occasion. I don’t recall specifically what the occasion was, so apparently, I was either bribed or blackmailed.
The Larchmont Farmers’ Market, laid out like a compact maze, is small but very busy. The vibe is similar to the Sunday Farmers’ Market in Brentwood. It is less about professional chefs stocking up for business and serious cooks looking for ingredients; more about families on a Sunday afternoon outing, tourists curious about the novelty of a farmers’ market, Hancock Park housewives obsessed with the trendiness of organics, and Asian people. There was a noticeable contingent of Asians at the Larchmont market. Not that I’m sensitive to Asian people. I’m just sensitive.
And hungover.
Now excuse me while I bol out.
** a year ago today, edamame hummus made me the world's fifth biggest hypocrite **
** two years ago today, conversation forgave forgettable food at beacon **
tags :: food : and drink : farmers market : reviews : los angeles
Jerrold says
I never would have taken you for a vegetable eating doing makeup in the car type of girl but I guess you learn something new every day. This changes everything.
sarah says
jerrold: i love vegetables, but i swear i end up buying way too many at the farmers' market and they end up going to waste in my house.
bummer.
and yes, i do my makeup in the car when i have to be across town by 9 and i leave my house at 8:45 ;)
U says
Tomatoes are one of the best reasons to be alive.
Kristel says
A) that is a freaking gorgeous tomato
B) I remember reading about your edamame hummus, making some of my own shortly thereafter, and due to my own mistakes (too much sesame oil, not enough salt) ended up with vile green slop. I was jealous that yours came out so tasty.
C)keep being delicious, Delicious. You are fabulous.
sarah says
u: see what i mean? "alive."
kristel:
a) pornographic, imho.
b) wow. that reminds me. i should make that again. if i ever make my way back into the ktichen, that is.
c) trying...
foodette says
That first tomato picture is amazing. Which farmers market do you go to?
Anonymous says
I like the fresh lamb and meat that can be found at markets. In addition to the non-comatose vegetables...