Bourgie is a word that our friend Clay (who does speak French) produced while we all sat at a particularly soft, white-linened table in Gourmet Ghetto, until then silent, trying our best to describe the adventure we were having. It was sometime in July, and Annie and I met Clay and Emma for a not atypical evening together. But things didn't go as planned, or more accurately, we don't make plans so we went with things.
What ensued was, indeed, atypical in content, but not in style. The details are saved for a later post, but I should at least tell you that the descriptive bourgie was inspired by the type of meal you commit to memory. It's the type of memory that probably had to replace others to make enough room, like knowing what the capital city of Idaho is, or the scientific names of fifty decapod crustaceans*. I remember showing up to the place a half hour before it opened for dinner, and the four of us pacing bashfully on the sidewalk, then braving our way upstairs and no one wanting to be the one to ask the host for a table.
But a few hours later, we found ourselves at this white-linened table, literally, and I'm almost (but not) ashamed to say this, licking the remnants of the sauces on our plates. But that was after we asked for a second loaf of bread to sop up the bigger remnants. You can see, just from these descriptions, that for bourgie to imply a high class or elitist sort of attitude, we might have thought twice about our behavior at the restaurant.
What ensued was, indeed, atypical in content, but not in style. The details are saved for a later post, but I should at least tell you that the descriptive bourgie was inspired by the type of meal you commit to memory. It's the type of memory that probably had to replace others to make enough room, like knowing what the capital city of Idaho is, or the scientific names of fifty decapod crustaceans*. I remember showing up to the place a half hour before it opened for dinner, and the four of us pacing bashfully on the sidewalk, then braving our way upstairs and no one wanting to be the one to ask the host for a table.
But a few hours later, we found ourselves at this white-linened table, literally, and I'm almost (but not) ashamed to say this, licking the remnants of the sauces on our plates. But that was after we asked for a second loaf of bread to sop up the bigger remnants. You can see, just from these descriptions, that for bourgie to imply a high class or elitist sort of attitude, we might have thought twice about our behavior at the restaurant.
Bourgie is a joke. We're freakin' college students. It's more of a style than a lifestyle. It's something you can pull off no matter your means. It's difficult to describe because we made the damn word up. But when we get excited and start debating about the best bottle of local olive oil or geeking out over the flavor properties of ethiopian yirgacheffe or the correct order to add ingredients to a stir fry, or butter versus olive oil, or red or white.... we can easily get carried away. We can banter like the over-caffeinated yuppies (oops, I said it.. ) we know and whose footsteps we follow, at least when we're hungry, and who we sometimes laugh at. But trully, its all for the love of food.
So read up, and maybe you'll find you can enjoy a little bourgie too!
...La
*I actually never learned most of the names for the decapods I studied in Invert Zoo last year. But I'm the better for it, because I have scores of latin names of their parasitic cousins to learn this quarter. That's right. PARASITOLOGY. Look it up. Parasites matter too.
No comments:
Post a Comment