We have a colleague here at The Post who spent a year chronicling his life as an eater. Food critic Tucker Shaw wrote about each of his meals in 2004 in a surprisingly juicy memoir titled “Everything I Ate: A Year in the Life of My Mouth.”
I’m reminded of Tucker this time of year when contemplating the flavors of the past 12 months.
In hindsight, I realize many of us here in this newsroom subsisted last January and February mainly on Dove chocolates, lots of them, wrapped individually in red foil. Those were dark and bitter months when the Rocky was going under.
Stress in our industry could be measured by the flow of candy in and out of the desk of Virginia Culver, The Post’s beloved obituary writer who keeps her bottom drawer stocked with sweets for the taking. Demand was high last winter. As was the supply. Virginia, and Dove, sustained us.
Not enough can be written, ever, about the infallibility of grilled-cheese sandwiches. Or Cream of Wheat, fixed thick and lumpy, on a winter morning.
It’s worth mentioning how great McIntosh apples taste right out of the refrigerator. And the pleasure of oranges peeled, and bread toasted and buttered, by people you love.
This was the year our Costco membership more than redeemed itself in mangos and cheap bottles of vitamins, including the gummy-bear kind meant, officially, for kids.
If there’s one thing I learned about food in 2009, it’s that pears need to ripen in paper bags. If there’s another thing, it’s that pot comes in all manner of edible forms besides brownies, including spray bottles of whipped cream with mint. Seriously.
Last summer was ripe with Rocky Ford melons and peaches off the Western Slope that were sweeter than I’d remembered. In case you’ve missed them, there are snow cones at summer farmers’ markets so big and so flavorful, they’re worth the $4 and blue tongue.
For the record, I agreed to eat a vinegar-flavored dried cricket on Halloween on a dare from an educator at my kid’s school. Less tasty was the crow I ate this year, having messed up the facts in more than one column. Please accept my apologies.
Foodwise, the year is ending surprisingly well.
A guy next to us at dinner Tuesday mentioned his favorite pizza place, Fat Sully’s. He raved about its New York-style slices, the freshness of the cheese and the crunchy thinness of the dough.
I wanted badly to believe in this miracle on Colfax, yet dreaded the disappointment of yet another pizza that doesn’t live up to its rap.
So I checked out Fat Sully’s. You know, professionally. And I’m happy to report that Tom was right. My slice was perfect. So was the one I finished for a friend.
Life is good. And there’s promise for 2010.
Susan Greene writes Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Reach her at 303-954-1989 or greene@denverpost.com
