Tzatziki - a mysterious condiment I can't spell
Well, dear readers, this is embarrassing. I had to look up the spelling of this condiment on wikipedia.org. A site I've now become far too dependent on for information. Perhaps I shall start condimentpedia, but I suspect that a bunch of porn ads will suddenly appear on the page. I can't tell you the number of people who start giving a knowing chuckle when they hear that I am blogging about condim....ents. "Oh. What?" "You know, like ketchup, mustard. All that." "Ah, I see." They're usually disappointed. I think they were hoping that I had a more lurid side, but if expressing a wish to lick G*D mustard off Russell Crowe's naked body isn't lurid, then I don't know what is. A-hem.
Today Mr. Mustard, Baby Balsamic and I headed to the Ballard Farmer's Market after reading about the tasty treats offered at the food booths in this article. We treated ourselves to a selection of the bruschettina with a variety of toppings: ricotta cheese with venetian sea salt, cabbage salad and italian sausage and greens. Beginning with the delicious squirt of olive oil as you bite into the fried toasts and ending with the tart taste of cabbage or the spicy greens or the salt-crunchy ricotta, these were delectable. I especially enjoyed the ricotta with sea salt because, well, it included a condiment prominently in its description. The salt brought out the fresh and more subtle flavors of the all-natural ricotta.
We also happened upon a pita booth offering sandwiches with fresh organic, free-range, only fed by blind nuns, Italian sausage and tzatziki sauce. Without the light flavor of the tzatziki, the sandwich would have been far too oily. As I licked a bit of the deceptively white and simple sauce off my hand, I wondered why I didn't have a bottle of this in my kitchen. It can go with so many things and is a very unique flavor - yoghurt with mint, cucumber, and garlic (and possibly other ingredients, but those are the standard). It's fresh, with the musky taste of the yoghurt complimented by the light, juicy cucumber. And garlic just makes about anything better. I want to try it on chicken breast, with a side of tabouleh.
Many years ago, I had a sometimes unkind boyfriend (definately NOT Mr. Mustard), who once told me of a romantic interlude he shared with a very plump Greek woman. He then went on to tell me that I was a bit too heavy for him and that this woman pulled it off, while I did not. When I think of tzatziki, I think of Greece and of this long-ago slight that caused me untold angst. But it is not the fault of the tzatziki, so I think I will research various brands and see which will entice me to dip my pita in it and embrace my womanliness on a regular basis.
You can't blame the condiment for the memory. And who knows, I may soon dream of licking it off Naveen Andrews for a little multicultural culinary erotica.
Condiment Grrl
Today Mr. Mustard, Baby Balsamic and I headed to the Ballard Farmer's Market after reading about the tasty treats offered at the food booths in this article. We treated ourselves to a selection of the bruschettina with a variety of toppings: ricotta cheese with venetian sea salt, cabbage salad and italian sausage and greens. Beginning with the delicious squirt of olive oil as you bite into the fried toasts and ending with the tart taste of cabbage or the spicy greens or the salt-crunchy ricotta, these were delectable. I especially enjoyed the ricotta with sea salt because, well, it included a condiment prominently in its description. The salt brought out the fresh and more subtle flavors of the all-natural ricotta.
We also happened upon a pita booth offering sandwiches with fresh organic, free-range, only fed by blind nuns, Italian sausage and tzatziki sauce. Without the light flavor of the tzatziki, the sandwich would have been far too oily. As I licked a bit of the deceptively white and simple sauce off my hand, I wondered why I didn't have a bottle of this in my kitchen. It can go with so many things and is a very unique flavor - yoghurt with mint, cucumber, and garlic (and possibly other ingredients, but those are the standard). It's fresh, with the musky taste of the yoghurt complimented by the light, juicy cucumber. And garlic just makes about anything better. I want to try it on chicken breast, with a side of tabouleh.
Many years ago, I had a sometimes unkind boyfriend (definately NOT Mr. Mustard), who once told me of a romantic interlude he shared with a very plump Greek woman. He then went on to tell me that I was a bit too heavy for him and that this woman pulled it off, while I did not. When I think of tzatziki, I think of Greece and of this long-ago slight that caused me untold angst. But it is not the fault of the tzatziki, so I think I will research various brands and see which will entice me to dip my pita in it and embrace my womanliness on a regular basis.
You can't blame the condiment for the memory. And who knows, I may soon dream of licking it off Naveen Andrews for a little multicultural culinary erotica.
Condiment Grrl
posted by CondimentGrrl at 9:42 PM
2 Comments:
Ah Ballard. Where did the Lutafisk and Lefsa go. So, did you try the FiskaBalls with Cardamon? You might give Hatie’s Hat a try for that “Old Time Ballard Flavor”. This is not a place for babies.
There was not a Fiskaball in sight, but the bruschettina booth did offer an octopus with chickpea topping that I avoided. Hattie's Hat is still there in all it's glory, but Ballard has become such a yuppie/foodie enclave that I wonder how long it can last...
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