Dealing drugs in the middle of the night makes me hungry. Good thing I’d brought along a bright and tasty tandoori chicken salad from Tava.
The spicy salad, followed by a few squares of dark chocolate, kept me full until morning.
After finishing my graveyard shift, I picked up the boys at the hotel and zoomed over to the Downtown Palo Alto Farmers’ Market. I’ve been coming to this market since I was a wee one during the Reagan era. Back then, buying fresh veggies directly from a farmer meant you were a bell bottom-sporting hippie like my parents. (They weren’t truly hippies. I don’t think you can be a hippie if you voted for the Gipper.)
Oh, how times have changed. Now, the market is filled with all sorts of foodies who are passionate about locally-sourced, farm-fresh veggies and meats. Although we arrived before 9 am, folks were already leaving the market with cloth bags bursting with colorful produce.
I visited my favorite vendors and grabbed some cruciferous veggies…
…yams, smoked lox, leafy greens, and ‘shrooms.
I was super excited to find fresh local mulberries grown by a neighborhood science teacher (and backyard farmer), Kevin Lynch.
If you’ve never tried mulberries, you’re missing out. They’re super sweet and juicy, but not at all seed-y like raspberries.
I also made sure to snag a huge bag of Bings from Jurevich Farms…
…the best cherry stand around.
Lil-O doesn’t like cherries – shocking, I know – so I picked up a few baskets of strawberries for the little guy.
See? Nature’s candy makes everyone happy.
After I returned to the hotel and went to bed, the boys went to Big-O’s wushu graduation…
…where he traded out his green belt for purple.
Then, the boys hustled over to the East Bay to celebrate cousin AJ’s birthday…
…by gorging on platters of grilled meats. The kids got to spend some time chilling with their nonagenarian great-grandmother, too.
The Double-Os spent the night at their grandparents’ house, so that meant I got to catch some extra zzzs. Seven hours of uninterrupted slumber never felt better.
By the time I woke up, it was too late to make dinner. Or more accurately, I refused to cook.
After driving around aimlessly in search of food, we stopped at Kabul, an Afghan restaurant we used to frequent in my pre-Paleo days. After studying the menu intently…
…I ordered kadu (sautéed pumpkin topped with meat sauce and yogurt)…
…sabzi (slow cooked spinach with herbs)…
…beef and chicken kabobs…
…and lamb chops.
Both platters of kabobs came with a whopping pile of seasoned rice and a large rectangle of gluten that we left untouched.
When I used to consume grains, an entree at Kabul would be enough for 2 or 3 meals ’cause I’d fill up on the stuff. Now? Not so much. In fact, I still had enough room to nibble on a piece of chocolate before I headed off to work again.
But who am I kidding? I always have room for chocolate.
