Meet the “hipster banana.” Also known as the “quaker delight,” the “hillbilly mango,” or it’s actual name—the pawpaw. 

September is pawpaw season in a large swath of the U.S., but you won’t find the pawpaw in most grocery stores, even though they’re native to North America. American Indians harvested them, and it’s been said George Washington liked to eat chilled pawpaw for dessert. But much of the pawpaw’s natural habitat was destroyed by development, and they’re not that easy to cultivate. They need slightly acidic, well-drained soil, and harvesting them is labor-intensive.

The locavore food movement has embraced the fruit. Now there are restaurants whipping up pawpaw pie and pawpaw gelato, and local breweries are starting to make pawpaw beer. 

This Once-Obscure Fruit Is On Its Way To Becoming PawPaw-Pawpular

Photograph: Tyrone Turner/WAMU

I’m happy for y'all that have made the decision to go 100% organic locavore vegan with your ships but some of us are out here dealing in ships that are the equivalent of gas station burritos and would like to be left alone.


photos from the article “jeong kwan, the philosopher chef” in the new york times style magazine

Kwan is an avatar of temple cuisine, which has flowed like an underground river through Korean culture for centuries. Long before Western coinages like ‘‘slow food,’’ ‘‘farm-to-table’’ and ‘‘locavore,’’ generations of unsung masters at spiritual refuges like Chunjinam were creating a cuisine of refinement and beauty out of whatever they could rustle up from the surrounding land. Foraging? Fermenting? Dehydrating? Seasonality? Been there, done that — Jeong Kwan and her peers at monasteries throughout Korea have a millennia-spanning expertise in these currently in-vogue methods that can make a top chef feel like a clueless punk.

Jeong Kwan, the Philosopher Chef
The most exquisite food in the world, say many celebrated chefs, is being made not in Copenhagen or New York, but in a remote temple complex south of Seoul by a 59-year-old Buddhist nun.
By Jeff Gordinier

So many people think Korean food is literally just bulgogi and samgyupsal but don’t realize that there’s a very rich, longstanding tradition of Korean Buddhist food. Spending long summer months as a child with my grandmother in the mountains of South Korea, a lot of my food memories have much more to do with the sanchae bibimbap and simple jjigaes than the meat heavy, restaurant-style meals that most people associate with Korean cuisine.

While there are some problematic aspects of this article (cw for subtle orientalizing/suggestions of cultural imperialism via encouraging foodie tourism to remote, traditional Buddhist locales in Korea), I appreciate the reminder that Korean food is so amazingly diverse and that the cuisine is steeped in culture, in history, in the native plants and traditional foraging practices and commitment to compassionate eating choices that have existed for literally centuries.

Here’s a good quote from the article that sums it up:

“Long before Western coinages like ‘‘slow food,’’ ‘‘farm-to-table’’ and ‘‘locavore,’’ generations of unsung masters at spiritual refuges like Chunjinam were creating a cuisine of refinement and beauty out of whatever they could rustle up from the surrounding land. Foraging? Fermenting? Dehydrating? Seasonality? Been there, done that — Jeong Kwan and her peers at monasteries throughout Korea have a millennia-spanning expertise in these currently in-vogue methods.”

Favorite Apps of 2015

Let’s be real here. Nowadays living a healthy lifestyle isn’talways easy. Whether it is time management, scheduling, or income—it can becomeoverwhelming! So I wanted to share some of my favorite, FREE apps that I am using in 2015 to help when it comes to staying on track. You’ll find a complete list from intake logging, couponing, to the best apps for meditation.

Waterlogged – iOS & Android
This app is helps keep track of your water intake, and remind you to get in the set daily goal. It has two new features that allow it to work with Fitbit and My Fitness Pal. It’s easy-to-use, and my go-to to keep track of my water intake, and keeping me hydrated.

Pacifica – iOS & Android
Pacifica offers tools for stress and anxiety based on cognitive behavioral therapy, relaxation, and wellness. It keeps track of your mood, and the design is simple, so it’s easy-to-use, and accessible. All your data will be kept private, and password protected. I have recently started using this app, and found it’s one of the best out of the few anxiety apps I have used in the past.

Headspace – iOS, Android, & Amazon
All you need are 10 minutes out of your day to mediate, and find that inner peace. Headspace is a free app that offers a free Take 10 Programme, which is 10 days. It can be used anywhere, on tablet or phone. For a monthly free, you can subscribed to unlock the entire Headspace collection which can aid in addiction, relationships, mood, and more.

Drugs.com Medication Guide – iOS & Android
This app makes it easy to look up drug information, identify pills, check interactions. What I love most is that it allows me to set up my own personal medication records list, which is perfect for when I have a doctor appointment and need to update them on my current medications.

HealthTap – iOS & Android
HealthTap allows you to have immediate doctor advice, answers, and tips, from the comfort of your own home. I recently discovered this app, and for an affordable co-pay, you can speak with a doctor through video or text chat. It’s a useful app for those who cannot get to their GP right away. I like having this as a possibility just in case because my doctor isn’t always in the office, and it’s closed two days out of the week. As always (which I hope most are aware of) for emergencies, go to the ER.

– iOS & Android
An ovulation and period tracker that brings science and design together to offer you the ability to have the confidence in predicting dates of your next period, PMS, and fertile days. You can find out if your moods are connected to your cycle, and have the comfort of knowing when your period is coming. I have tried numerous tracking apps, but this one has been by far the best in accuracy, even when it comes to PMS.

Farmstand – iOS & Android
Discover locally grown food within your area with Farmstand. You can find markets in your area, share photos, post deals you’ve found, and most of all, support your local community. I encourage those who have farmers markets, product houses/stands, or farms in their area to check them out! Not only will you get affordable product which can be very expensive, but you’ll be supporting the local economy. They are my go-to during the warmer months to stay stocked up on all the fruits and vegetables I need.

Locavore – iOS & Android
Find local, in-season food from nearby farmers’ markets and farms in your area with Locavore. It’s free to use, and you can connect with people in the community through the app with sharing photos. There is even a recipe section included for your personal use.

Sleepbot – iOS & Android
Lately I like to keep track of my sleep so I can let my doctor know how my sleep patterns are doing, and this app has been great with doing all the work. It is a sleep cycle tracker with a smart alarm. It has a motion and sound tracker included, but it is optional to use. This app has been featured on many websites, and works really well with keeping track of sleep.

Coupon & Saving Apps
I am going to make a list for these because it’s simple to understand so no need explaining each when all are similar. All of the apps listed below are what I use, love, and would recommend. The list below are available on iOS & Android, too.

  • RetailMeNot
  • Checkout 51
  • Shopkick
  • BerryCart
  • Ibotta
  • Snap by Groupon
  • Zipongo

Time Management, To-Do Lists, & Productivity 

  • Listastic – iOS
  • Timeful – iOS
  • Remember the Milk – iOS & Android
  • Coach.me – iOS & Android
  • Finish – iOS
  • Good Habits – iOS

Every springtime in the lovely Alsace region of France, people stand in blossoming pear orchards, sliding glass bottles over tender young pears. The workers fasten the bottles securely to nearby branches, and then wait a few months for each tiny pear to grow and ripen in its own little glass greenhouse.

This is the astonishing, age-old tradition first invented in Alsace in the 1700s and known as eau de vie de poire, or pear water of life.

Lately, pear-in-the bottle brandy has made a comeback in America — a kind of artful flourish from the fast-growing sector of locavore, craft brandies. In keeping with the farm-to-table movement, dozens of distilleries in the U.S. are now crafting dry, fragrant spirits from other mashed and fermented fruits, too — like cherries, pears, plums, raspberries, apples and peaches — sourced from local orchards.

Clear Fruit Brandies Pack An Orchard Into A Bottle

Photo Credit: Courtesy of Westford Hill Distillers

Northern California Gothic 2.0
  • A Prius passes you on 280. It just passed you a minute ago,didn’t it? You look around. There are nothing but Priuses.
  • A friend invites you to a beach party. You starve for weeksto fit into your bathing suit. You arrive at the beach and take your sweats off, in spite of the fog and bitter cold. Everyone laughs at you.
  • In a casual conversation over craft beer at a top Yelp pub in the Sunset, your friend tells you they drove up PCH to get here. You wonder what that means in your language.
  •  Your locavore friend serves a fantastic salad at a dinner party. Everyone praises that it’s organically grown, but you know the farm is more than 100 miles away. Is the friendship worth it?
  •  Your out of town friends all show up for Pride. You throw them your MUNI pass and say, “Have fun.” You never see them again.
  •  You have to visit relatives in the Central Valley for Fourth of July. There’s water running all over your face. Are you melting?
  •  You’re going for a walk. You start in the Mission and plan to end up at Ocean Beach. How many layers of clothing do you need?
  •  Your car breaks down somewhere in Humboldt County. Do you call the Highway Patrol for help, or sacrifice your least desirable passenger to the growers?
  •  You know you’re halfway to LA when you smell cow shit, and don’t see cows.
  •  You feel the earth move under your feet. You hope you have beach front property now.
  •  It’s a glorious day and you’ve packed up the kids and family and driven a couple hours to get to the beach. The beach is closed because of great white sharks. You still consider going in.

So I was in my room and woke up to the alarm, I dunno what button as usually it beeps but it turned on with NPR’s Morning Edition.   So suddenly, I feel weird, almost like I’m coming up out of ether after being at the dentist or some shit.  It’s almost like it has my attention, and bam, suddenly I’m actually honing in on this nerdy voice talk – seriously you know how Ira Glass sounds, well they all kind of inflect like him.  I guess I start caring and paying attention, which was strange.  I tried to think about it and actually, I always did care about politics and what’s going on in the world, human interest stories, and what’s really perflexing– perplexing, I mean– is, wow,I haven’t been lately.

Perflexing, I think and snort a little snort at my own intentional parapraxis.

I sit up on the bed and pull up my iPhone off the charger.  Swiping through a few screens, check my Facebook, no texts this morning.  I don’t have a shirt on yet and I’m looking at my bare arm and it looks pretty buff, really, and it starts to hit me that something isn’t quite right.  Buff?  I tense up a little and go until the bathroom, running a hand across my face and turning on the sink.  Splashing some water and there’s that big bare arm, definitely got some meat on my shoulders, too.

‘This isn’t right,’ I think, and suddenly it hits me:  I have really been losing myself lately.  I’ve been having fun I guess, exploring some new angles, met this cool new guy who’s been inspiring me but whoa, I am really going down the wrong tracks lately.  I wash up, still hardly believing my own reflection.  Yeah I look healthy, kinda good I admit, but that’s not me.

There’s this pile of hockey gear on the side of my bed and I remember talking about wanting us to work on getting my room more up to speed with this sort of stuff.  I look at my bookshelf, which looks forlorn as if it’s already collecting dust and just not getting any love.  Do I really want to forsake that, push it aside – no, I most definitely don’t.  I sit down on my laptop and log into my Goodreads and click on my profile, just to remind myself what I’ve been reading lately.  Heck, it’s hardly been anything – the last book was weeks ago and not even very challenging – The Price of Salt by Patricia Highsmith?  Sure, I enjoyed Carol, just because it’s Todd Haynes which must be why I got the book, either that or just that they mentioned it on Fresh Air.  But what did I seriously expect out of lightweight lesbian romance from the Eisenhower era – put on a candle and talk about doilies and each other’s hands, it really was mostly a snooze, easy read.

I fire up my iPhone and see what I’ve got in there, but why did I delete so much off my list?  That was stupid of me.  I try to remember what I had in there before, and start adding them back – The Closing of the American Mind by Allan Bloom, Buddenbrooks by Thomas Mann, Dicta and Contradicta by Karl Kraus, maybe Disagreeable Tales by Léon Bloy but nah, it didn’t actually look that good.  Soumission by Michel Houllebecq for sure, as I loved The Possibility of An Island… shit, what else… I feel frustrated.  I should go back to the bookstore and get these added more methodically, as right now it’s just trying to recreate the wheel.  Probably if I spend an afternoon in there, my list will be better than it was the first time, I optimistically tell myself.

I go to make my bed and clean up the place, collecting some empty glasses and putting them in the kitchen, putting that hockey gear in the closet and just as its starting to look nice I get a text.  "Hey man, see ya tonight at 5, you want me to pick up Chipotle or something?“

"Nah I got some food from the farmer’s market here I’ve got to use up, you sure you want to come over?” I text back, hesitant.  This guy!  Even though I appreciate what Chipotle is doing for the organic movement, it’s still corporate and let’s face it, they have really only two items on the menu – a bowl or a wrap, lol.  I really don’t need this guy in my life tonight, I want to get my life back on track and hit up the bookstore.

“Yeah that’s cool, I don’t need to eat, just wanted to swing by and say hi.  Got some books you might love to bring over.”

“Yeah?  I guess, then, I mean just for a little while because I’ve got to study.

I’m big into biology lately, I remember.  Or was always.  Or… shit, I need to hold onto my smart self, who I always was.  I"ll knuckle down on my books, let this bro over for a bit, but that’s the end of it after tonight.  Wow!  Wild ride but this ends tonight, way too much risk of losing myself like I almost did.

I dive deep into my textbook, drilling the vocabulary into my head one word at a time, cognizant of what I’ve lost but it’s coming back quick, thank God.  Submucosa, DNA ligase, disrupter selection, flavin adenine dinucleotide, four fused rings in steroids (a lipid), I’ll get back to the math later, I figure, but at least it’s all rushing back into my mind, no problem there.

Before you know it the doorbell’s ringing, and of course just as I’ve got a candle lit for some nice ambience.  Roasted beets on a bibb lettuce salad with locavore-inspired goat cheese, all organic.  Tamari sunflower seeds and a balsamic vinaigrette, ginger beer on the side, nothing fancy…just a solid meal for a nice night to unwind with.  Nice little wine pairing of a pinot noir, although an aged Riesling would have worked too – beet salad is not a common pairing, I smile, a little smug, I think with a tinge of self-shaming that I tell myself I shouldn’t really have to feel – in how cultured I’ve gotten to be.

I get up and walk over, really not happy that he invited himself over – the guy is a risk, a mindfucker and not good for me.  But I’m firmly in grip of myself and once I get through this night he’ll be easier to blow off for good.

"What are you doing in a t-shirt?” he says just as I open the door, striding past me and sitting right down at the table.

“What was I suppose to wear, a button down for you?"I say back, cockily, knowing I’m the one in control and don’t need to put up with his shit.  Calling his bluff for sure.  I can’t be outwitted by this one, that’s for sure.

"Just seemed odd for you is all,” he says, turning his hat around now that he’s out of the sun and sitting down.

“You’ve eaten already, right?  Because I only made enough for one,” I say, looking him in the eyes.

“i’m still wondering what you’re doing with a t-shirt on,” he says.  "Yeah, I’ve eaten, what do you want to do tonight?“

"I don’t know,” I said after swallowing my bite.  I"m sitting back down and really hate having dinner with him here.  "You’re the one who wanted to come over, remember?“

"Yeah didn’t you want to talk about books or some shit?” he says, leaning back in his chair and kicking off his shoes on my rug.  He should have just taken them off at the door to be polite.

“Sure,” I respond, still looking him right in the eye to make sure he knows who’s in control of the conversation.  "I’m thinking of going to Europe for a few weeks so I’m reading Rick Steves’ Europe 101.  Kind of slight, but fun and actually more informative than you’d think.  Did you know Benedict of Nursia is actually the patron saint of Europe?’

'Oh brother,’ he says, rolling his eyes.  I just keep eating.

He goes on, “Sounds pretty boring to me.  And are you really sure about that t-shirt still, bro?’

He says bro kind of weird, I think, as suddenly at the same time I realize I feel kind of dizzy, like I’m laying back in my chair or.. I think they call it vertigo.

"Don’t call me bro, what the hell are you doing?” I shout across the table at him, annoyed that he’s opening a bottle of wine.  He’s taken off his t-shirt even, big tribal tattoo across his chest, and he knows he looks hot so nobody will question him.  There’s still plenty of pinot in the fridge.

“Calm down, bro, just poppin open a bottle.  God, you’re uptight.’

I am not uptight, I think.  I feel kind of sweaty and constricted by my shirt and realize maybe he has a point, though I’d never admit it.  My pits feel a little damp and it’s like the shirt is annoying or something.  Maybe I just feel warm all over.

"Just sayin that there’s a bottle of wine in the fridge,” I say, trying to eat more just to get this meal over with since I’m not enjoying it anyhow.  I’m hungry and feels good to shovel it in faster even though I know I should savor this more.

'Bro?’ he says, “why don’t you just chill.”

It’s annoying me that he’s calling me bro, or maybe it’s just this shirt that’s annoying me, really.  I wish my arms were free.  "Dude, I’ll be right back,“ I say, just wanted to get out of this at the moment.  I go into my room and open a drawer looking for something.  Don’t see any of my tanks but there’s a singlet, bright red.  That should show him up, I think, plus this t-shirt is just driving me nuts, I think as I strip it off.  Too plain.

I slide the straps over my arms, noticing how cut my torso has gotten.  Something about that kind of excites me for some reason.

I step out, confidentially sitting back down and wolfing down the rest of my food.  Feels a lot better in this singlet, even though it feels weird at first walkin back to dinner barefoot and everything,I know he can see all the hair in my pits and all, even shows some with my guns at my sides, but I kind of like showing him who’s the man here.  Let him play defense.

I slosh down some of this salad – why’d I make some lame salad like this, seriously – with a glass of the wine.  "Here bro, you need a refill?” he says, leanin over and pourin wine in my glass before I even answer.

“I guess,” I say between bites.  "Hey you want to wrestle tonight?“ I say.  Whoa, where’d that come from?  What’s happening?  I don’t even think I feel like myself, all of a sudden.

"Perfect, bro.  He says.  "Who’s your bro?”

“You’re my fucking bro, bro,” I say, thrilled to hear myself just blurting it out.

Before I know it, the tv’s on with the game in the background and this dude has taken off his hoodie and underneath it, he’s in a singlet too, which I like just because I want to practice my wrestling moves.  I’ve been studying so hand and doing all this lame shit and it’s like this guy is an opportunity to connect with the real me, who I just haven’t had time for lately.

I start explaining that to him and he tells me, “hey, listen dumbass, I know the real you.  It’s not that you haven’t had time, it’s that you got lost for a minute.  The real you is a dumb fuckin jock.  You always have been, you are now, you always will be, and we’re gonna hammer that home harder from now on.”

That gets me really excited for some reason and I ask him if he’ll get in referee’s position with me on the top and start off a match.  "Sure, bro, I love to wrestle dumbasses like you" he says.  I love it when he calls me bro.

For no reason at all I start getting a boner, even though I know now isn’t the right time, and though I’m embarrassed, I can’t help myself but say, “I love wrestling man, ok you think I can throw you, you ready to start?”

“We’re gonna have to get a real mat in here soon but yeah I’m ready.  Ok, 3..2..1..” and it’s on.  I’m grabbing at his leg with my left and wrap it around his thick, hairy calf and I try not to think about why I’m amped all of a sudden and how good I’m feelin even as he gets me into a half nelson pretty quick.

Suddenly it’s my skin on his skin, singlet on singlet but for some reason my hardon doesn’t go down.  Then pretty soon he pins me and I’m starin up at him, noticing he hasn’t shaved lately and is getting sweaty and not sure what I’m thinkin because I know I need to focus on the match harder.  Then we’re back in the referee’s position for round two.  He leans over and whispers in my ear, “you look like such a stupid fuckin dumbass primate in that singlet, bro.  I love it.”

“I do?” I say, but it gets me harder for some reason.  Then I blurt out, “You like it when I seem stupid?” I say, knowing how stupid that probably just sounded.

“You are stupid, bro.  But that’s ok because you know all about sports and shit.”

Which is true.  And he’s on top of me and I’m lookin up at him and he flips me, and my hardon brushes up against his thick thigh hard and suddenly my eyes are rolling back in my head and I think I’m cumming… and I cum, all over the front of my singlet, just too much friction or something, don’t know what even happened as this so isn’t like me…“

"Aww bro, what are you doin, dumbass,” he says, suddenly pulling off the straps of his white singlet and sliding it down and I see he has a big hardon himself, which, suddenly I feel like I’m drooling or something and I know what I need to do.

It doesn’t even matter to me that I’ve gotten off cuz this is my bro and I’m so fuckin into it, grateful for how he just got me off, and he pulls me up to my bed and I’m suckin his big dumb dong for what seems like an hour, but I’m lovin every minute of it and wish it would go on forever.  I even start getting hard again and before I know it he throws back his head and moans and hot white sperm is shootin out all over my lips and I lap it up with as much slobber and tongue as I can show just to demonstrate how grateful I am.

This dude, this bro, he’s so cool that he doesn’t even care how fucked up that just was, he lets me crash right out against his muscular biceps on the bed together.

I realize I didn’t set the alarm and then suddenly realize tomorrow is a Saturday and for some reason I don’t want to even deal with resetting it as I’ve had a few glasses of wine and I’m in this moment with my bro so I yank at the cord and it falls out onto the floor into some clothes or something.  My bro laughs his dumb jock laugh and I do too, fucking clocks.  Love weekends.

Black bears (Ursa americana) eat plants—a lot of plants. Up to 90% of their diet can be plant material. Like a locavore foodie, they eat what’s in season, and in the fall they enjoy beech nuts. This beech tree has impressive claw marks from a bear’s climbing efforts. It’s amazing that the animal capable of gouging these holes was basically fueled by trail mix.

mmc-5311-deactivated20170628  asked:

I've noticed a trend among restrictive eaters (Paleos, vegans, locavores) in the fitness community where they act so nasty and aggressive toward people who either didn't do well with said diet, or just aren't interested. Do you have any thoughts on this, or sources that cover it in more depth? It feels to me like some develop a real superiority complex over their eating choices, and become enraged when others don't want to aspire to be like them, or do what they did.

This is a great question and I’m genuinely so glad that you asked me.

I think that there are quite a few reasons why this problem exists and where it stems from. Food is a complicated issue, and it’s one that’s highly emotional for many people, so it understandable that this sort of stereotype will go hand-in-hand with restrictive diets. (For the sake of this post, I’ll be using the term “restrictive diet” to refer to veganism, paleo eating, etc.) If we’re going to break down it’s origins, I’d blame the problem on these issues:

–> Food is something that people can control when everything else is chaos, so they feel very strongly about any criticisms aimed towards their diet. This especially pops up when anorexia is discussed, but the same general concept can be applied to nearly all diets: When you can’t control your body, or your job, or your relationships, you can still control what goes into your mouth. It’s a way to regulate the world around you and feel a (necessary) sense of power over your life. That feeling of control is incredibly important. So when these folks feel that their diet is being attacked (and, therefore, they feel as though the one thing within their control is being threatened and taken away), they’ll naturally lash out.

–> Morality is attached to many forms of restrictive dieting. Especially common in vegetarianism and veganism, lots of people adjust their eating habits in order to better suit their personal beliefs. Food is already emotional, so attaching integrity and virtue to a diet will only strengthen those feelings. It can be difficult to handle when you believe that the people around you are engaging in offensive and malicious behavior on a daily basis. This is a very important issue to many people, and it’s one that can be justifiably passionate.

–> Many restrictive diets stem from a place of privilege, and people have difficulty acknowledging and accepting that privilege. You’re not going to see a lot of people eating paleo and vegan diets within food deserts; The majority of restrictive diets are going to be supported in areas where a wide variety of food is available at relatively low prices, and can be purchased by folks who have enough money to support such a dietary shift. All of these things are a privilege. Not everyone has access to those kinds of resources (or a medical history that allows this dietary shift, or a community that supports it, etc.). And if you’ve invested so much time and energy into a diet that you personally feel is important and beneficial, sometimes it’s very difficult to acknowledge the difficulty that other people may be having. It’s that idea of “If I can do it, you should be able to.” And this ties together very closely with the next point:

–> A difficult diet is seen as a sign of strength and willpower. Lots of people pride themselves on tackling challenges and coming out a winner: Dieting is one part of that. It’s a tough choice that you have to maintain every single day. When people manage to do that, it makes them feel good. And in some unfortunate cases, it makes them feel superior. Some folks get off on the idea that they can do something you can’t. They see it as proof of their own hard work and your laziness. But when you disrespect their achievements by refusing to even try or participate in the game, that makes them angry, because it invalidates the entire social hierarchy that they’ve been standing on top of.

And, perhaps most importantly, let’s not forget about this last point:

–> This is still a stereotype. The idea of the “militant vegan” certainly isn’t going to be true in all cases, or even in most. But because this is the cultural idea that we’ve set up for restrictive dieters, this is how they’re often seen: Saying “no” to a meal can easily be interpreted as anger, while providing their own food can be seen as arrogance. It’s a tough stereotype to get away from.

So if you happen to encounter people who pressure you to change your diet or insult the food choices you make: I’m sorry. Do your best to brush it off and keep reminding yourself that a diet is a personal choice, both for you and for this other person. Let everyone be happy with their own choices and we’ll all get along just fine.

agentpaxieamor  asked:

Fic prompt: Foodieverse, Steve is going to be taking his truck to NY ComicCon, Tony decides he has to have a truck there too. His truck is... Interesting.

So, I also got an Ask from @katisatotalnerd in this vein:
I was walking over to Powell’s City of Books today, and I got caught up in the Portland Rose Festival parade. There were lots of food trucks around. Which got me thinking, are there any parades in the Foodieverse? Does Steve drag Tony to the parades? Do Steve and Sam set up their trucks along the parade path? Does Steve badger Tony to set up some sort of promotional table for TOBRU?

I don’t often go to parades or conventions so I’ve never truly encountered food trucks at them, but I was intrigued by the idea of a TOBRU food truck. BEHOLD THE RESULT.


“Tadaa!” Tony repeated, when his first tadaa! elicited no reaction.

Steve was standing in the parking lot of TOBRU, hand over his mouth. Sam, next to him, had his thumb pressed to his mouth with his knuckles tucked under his nostrils, eyes wide. Bucky, who had weaseled one of the new experimental “hot dog croquettes” out of Sam, was chewing industriously, seemingly indifferent to the monstrosity before them.

“Is that an RV?” Steve finally asked.

“It was an RV. Now it is TRUCKBRU, the mobile eatery,” Tony said proudly.

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