As we sat eating our dinner at the farmers market last night, I oddly noticed a series of mental high-five’s my husband seemed to be getting… though, it had nothing to do with me.
Wednesday was the opening of our neighborhood farmer’s market, up in the Hollywood Hills at Yamashiro’s — a Hollywood landmark. There were enough food trucks to feed an army, beautiful fruit and vegetable stands, amazing assortments of gourmet cheese, quaint candles and homemade soaps, beautiful one-of-a-kind jewelry and other local artisans who shared their craft. There was live music, outdoor movies for the kids and and one of the best views of Hollywood you can get. What a fun summer evening for the family.
Back to the food trucks.
From the moment we walked in, my husbands eyes lasered in to the BBQ truck, advertising ribs and tri-tip and had an impressive line up of grills cradled in the sweet smelling arm of smoke that waved him over. We immediately knew where we were going for dinner. BBQ it is.
We did a quick walk through the market, to case out the options and vendors we wanted to visit… all the while, my husband looking over his shoulder time to time, to make sure there wasn’t a line building for his BBQ joint. After a quick lap, we head over. My husband struts up to the order window with swagger and excitement of a cowboy going into the big rodeo. There was a bit of small talk with the owner, showing some of his BBQ-cred as he formulated his game plan. Presented before him were beef ribs, tri-tip, grilled lamb, and half a chicken… all impressive offerings of BBQ-goodness for him to choose. As I’m contemplating my order, my husband spit’s out his like a scene from The Christmas Story — his dinner is the Red Ryder… “I’ll have the FULL RACK…beef of course, side of corn, baked beans and yes, yes, the peach cobbler.. throw it on”. The assurance and culinary excitement almost exploding from his mouth with his order.
I take our 3 year old to go get some ice cream as I promised, and we find a table to sit, enjoy the music and have dinner. A few minutes later, my husband emerges with the most proud, sh*t-eating grin on his face. He opens his treasure chest take-out carton of food to present a meal worthy of Fred Flinstone. This rack of ribs was ENORMOUS. I began to laugh, realizing we may be eating ribs for a while. As we eat our food, enjoying the scene around us, the market filling up with families, friends, and music, I feel as if I am being watched… not once but several times. I look up to catch the look of amazement and wow’s flying off men’s faces as they pass my husbands impressive win of pure BBQ-gold. They were not just looks of envy, but dude after dude looked at my husband and his prize dinner with what seemed like respect for the culinary badassery he was attempting to slay. Some even stopped by to congratulate him. “Nice Rack, Bro”! Of course my husband kindly smiled and gave a nod, glowing with pride for the caveman worthy, manly feat he was attempting to consume.
I found the theatrics of this show hilarious. This was not some middle America, country state fair… this is the heart of Hollywood.. Los Angeles… where men wear 100$ t-shirts, designer stretchy-jeans and man-rompers. Refined men drink fruit infused spirits while they contemplate their meaningful relationships of women they barely remember, recent articles in Rolling Stone and critique the prior evening’s events they witnessed on the Strip. They are hyper-educated, culturally aware, metrosexual men… an identity which was quickly shoved aside by the secret society of their innate neanderthal appetites. I almost expected some chest-pounding in solidarity and brotherhood of the male species. One by one we would later see these men pass us by with their to-go containers of ribs, smiling and giving my husband the fraternal nod as their vegan girlfriends roll their eyes in disgust.
LA has always had a reputation as a superficial city, where it seemed a great set of fake boobs is what you needed to get you noticed, as it turns out ladies, that wasn’t the rack the men of Hollywood were chasing after all. Time to get to the market… Happy Summer BBQ Hollywood!
#summerbbq #hollywoodlife #mountainmarket #Nelsonsummer17 #yamashirohollywood #writerswrite #mediumchallenge