A Bowl of Good, days two and four
I don’t know if you knew this, but you’re not supposed to care what I had for lunch. Usually I’d agree with that, but just this once, I think you’ll need to make an exception.
You see, the much anticipated A Bowl of Good cafe opened on Monday just a few blocks from where I work, and I’ve already eaten there twice.
When I met up with a friend at the cafe on Tuesday, we found ourselves at the end of a long line — not because the service was slow, but because so many people were eager to enjoy the cafe. As we waited, I checked out the surroundings. The building is brand new, so the cafe looks very fresh and modern, and the signage is both professional and fun. (It wasn’t until much later that I noticed a picture of a friend of mine hanging on the wall.) I counted seating for at least 32 people inside, including the trendy stools along a counter next to the front window, but there were also a number of tables outside the entrance (all occupied on the beautiful summer day).
I was pleasantly surprised to see a pair of large glass doors on the one wall that had been rolled open to create a wide doorway into Artisans’ Hope, which sells fairly traded handcrafted items from around the world. Artisans’ Hope just moved from their location in the building next door, and their new retail area is much more spacious. The ease of passage between the two businesses (as part of the Common Good Marketplace, as the building is called) should boost sales for both.
The food options fall into three main categories: Breakfast Bowls, Lunch Bowls, and More Goodness (soups, salads, sandwiches, wraps, and specialty drinks). The Bowls all have fun names, and I’m eager to try out breakfast items like Buenos Dias Bowl and Peace, Love & Granola Bowl. The cafe’s slogan is “Globally Inspired, Local Goodness,” and their menu clearly lives up to that. Lunch options like Maharaja Bowl, All Thai’d Up, Bowl de la Milpa, and Tapas Bowl show a distinct international flair (with plenty of local ingredients), while others have found their inspiration closer to home, such as Mac n’ Jack of the Valley, Red, White & Moo Bowl (featuring local beef), and It’s Nacho-Yo Bowl with “Virginia’s finest nachos.”
I finally settled on Tom Kha Gai Bowl, a Thai coconut chicken soup over rice with lime and cilantro. It was just as amazing as it sounds. It’s hard to be subtle when you’re trying to take a picture of your lunch in a crowded restaurant, but I did manage to come away with this one.
See those white strips? I found out tonight that they’re bamboo. Bamboo!
Maybe I don’t get out enough, but I was even impressed by things like the trays (sleek, square, and black) and the plastic cups (clear and smooth, not like the textured ones you’d get at your local pizza joint). And take a look at that table! I’m personally acquainted with the owner, Katrina, and her husband Ernie, and since Ernie and I are friends on Facebook, I happen to know that his father made the tables. The table tops were created by laying down four tiles (there are quite a few different designs) and then pouring a clear resin over it to create a shiny, smooth surface.
When I returned to the office after eating lunch there on Tuesday, I found an email from a colleague wanting to take me out to lunch. Without hesitation, I suggested A Bowl of Good. So on Thursday, I opted for one of the soups of the day, a surprisingly generous bowl of Red, White and Moo soup. The flavor was quite good and the spiciness was just right — plenty of heat, but not too much for my wimpy mouth to handle.
Of the two menu items I’ve tried so far, the Tom Kha Gai Bowl was my favorite, but I’ve decided to order each thing once before choosing something for the second time. I might post some more reviews as I go, but don’t expect them immediately. After all, even though I agree 100%, I’m not THIS customer!
Driving Miss Duct Tape
I followed someone for about a mile on my way home from work this evening.
Sometimes she drove near the double yellow line, and other times she drove near — OK, on — the white line.
Sometimes she drove slow, and other times she drove slower.
One time she used her turn signal for a whole block before turning… but hey — at least she used it.
I know everyone who drives has to learn somehow, but I would have been MORTIFIED if my parents had duct-taped a sign like this to the back of our car!
P.S. Check out the passenger-side mirror. 
30
Thirteen years ago today, I moved into my first college dorm room.
Nineteen years ago today, I got my first pair of glasses.
Thirty years ago today, I took my first breath.
sweet
HER:
Curly white hair.
Pink visor.
Pink floral shirt.
Pink pants.
HIM:
Navy blue baseball cap.
Light brown shirt.
Dark brown pants.
Shuffling.
THEM:
Out for a Sunday morning walk.
Likely octogenarians.
Holding hands.
on staying married
Caitlin Flanagan’s essay entitled “Why Marriage Matters“* (TIME Magazine, July 13, 2009) caught my attention. Following are a few short excerpts that I found particularly thought-provoking:
“Watching the governor of South Carolina cry like a little girl because his sexy e-mails got forwarded to his local newspaper, the State, made me wonder whether the real secret to a lasting marriage lies in limiting your means of escape.”
“The squalor and pain that resulted from the Sanford and Ensign midlife crises make manifest a bleak truth that the late writer Leonard Michaels once observed in his journal: ‘Adultery is not about sex or romance. Ultimately, it is about how little we mean to one another.’ “
“The poor and the middle class are very different in the ways they have forsaken marriage. The poor are doing it by uncoupling parenthood from marriage, and the financially secure are doing it by blasting apart their unions if the principals aren’t having fun anymore.”
“Jon [Gosselin] had gotten bored with being bossed around by Kate, he’d had a fling with a 23-year-old teacher, and the couple had filed for divorce. He still loved the kids, he said — with complete guilelessness, as though loving the kids and doing right by them were unrelated events…”
* The title of the online article differs.
a pick-up line from the Apostle Paul
Every August, before students return to campus for fall semester classes, the university where I work holds a two-day faculty/staff conference that includes a guest speaker, personal storytelling on the theme (a highlight!), worship, faculty workshops, and an address from the president. On the evening of the first day, all faculty and staff and their families are invited to a big picnic on the front lawn.
I always love seeing and interacting with my colleagues’ spouses and children, but this evening I happened to eat with several colleagues who had traveled down together from our site in Pennsylvania. We communicate by phone and email on occasion, but I rarely get to see them. It was fun to spend time talking, laughing, and learning to know them better, and we were some of the last to leave the picnic (which was unfortunately moved indoors due to rain).
I keep hoping that someday I will be able to RSVP for more than one person, but of course I arrived at this evening’s picnic alone. As I chatted with various people around me in the food line, I didn’t know yet who I would be eating dinner with. After getting my food, I headed towards the beverage area, where I ran into a man I hadn’t talked to in a while. He greeted me and asked how I’m doing. I forget whether I was doing fine, great, or OK, but after I answered, our conversation took an interesting turn.
“Are you still Rachel [LastName]?” he asked.
“I am.”
“That’s good.”
And then we went our separate directions. I felt mildly insulted and incredibly puzzled, but if he weren’t married, I would have thought it was a pick-up line.
I bet the Apostle Paul confused a lot of single women in his bachelor days!
bloom wherever you end up
I’ve never really been a fan of the saying “Bloom where you’re planted.” While I certainly appreciate and agree with the idea that we should make the most of our circumstances wherever we are, the saying unfortunately brings to mind things like touchy-feely women’s ministries, Mary Engelbreit, and those pastel t-shirts at Christian bookstores with large pictures printed on the front.
I obviously don’t know whether that second mental association is exactly accurate, but now that I’ve called it into question, I’m going to need to google “mary engelbreit bloom where you’re planted” to find out.
Oh! See? Dead on.
As I was walking across campus to a meeting this afternoon, I spotted a beautiful flower growing in the most unlikely place.
It’s the kind of image that would lead some people to create an inspirational poster with the caption “Bloom where you’re planted.” But as I was snapping a few photos of the flower after work today, it dawned on me that it was never planted here. The grounds crew obviously had a different location in mind for this flower, but somehow it ended up here.
And the flower that’s thriving in the barren environment where it ended up has brought me more joy than the ones I walk past every day that are simply blooming where they were planted.
(Just before I took this picture from my car window, a security officer who always calls me Rach drove right up and parked. When life gives you golf carts…)
when I walk away: Dining Room Edition
You’ve already seen the Home Office Edition. Tonight I bring you the Dining Room Edition of “When I Walk Away,” which is now a two-part series that provides a glimpse of what the cameras in my home see when they’re unsupervised.
The cameras. Sounds like I live in a really upscale neighborhood, doesn’t it? So far, the photography has been done by my built-in laptop camera and my little Fuji FinePix, not a home security system.
