Well.
I finally made it to Saltie today, and it is: 100% on the agenda, winning hearts and minds, its distance eating at my thoughts, its existence bolstering my spirits. It is one of those sandwich shops that I believe exist almost purely for the Anna Grainers of the world; it is perfect. Perfect!
(Cipollina— I have a mistress).
Richly sour feta, cool boiled egg, the briny, round tang of pickled vegetables and capers nestled in a slick of rose-colored ailoi; grains of sea salt dotting the pillow of foccacia bursting like a little firework in the pocket of your cheek and making you smile— this was the Scuttlebutt sandwich.
Apricot & brandy ice cream followed. Rachel and I fastidiously made plans to come back within the week; we thought of what we would order, and how best to share it, promised to be hungry enough to each get our own sandwich and cover our bases. I am invested in you, Saltie. This is for real.
Ah, and when I got home and my appetite gradually returned there was that most summery of dishes, so simply and utterly delicious, that I mentioned recently: stewey sauteed tomatoes with golden-tender zucchini and garlic lightly blanketed with chopped basil. It was insanely, gorgeously sweet with tomato and humble with nutty squash and browned garlic, peppery with basil. It sang in my mouth, and was brilliant aside a fried egg, with a crusty hunk of baguette to sop up olive oil and yolk and all things rich and sunny-colored.
Today was tremendously hot, but pretty darn good all the same.
(This wonderful picture can be found here.)
