A shift of sorts

2008 is winking at me in a mischevous man-at-the-bar-who’s-not-taking-himself-too-seriously sort of way. I am on the verge of ending my year-long fast of animal-given protein. As I mull what will be in 2008 (going dairy-free, purifying), I reflect in brief on classic moments of a self-imposed vegetarianism:
— Hello beans and legumes! Hey, we were just getting acquainted and who’s to say it ends here?
— I watched crabbers pulling in a very angry and headstrong dungeness at Crissy Field last week feeling equal parts bad that his demise was coming this way and then remembering the buttery sweetness reminiscent of the dungeness.
— My cleanse enabled me to address head-on a love affair with sugar in a whole new way- dancing anyone?
— Give me an hour at the San Rafael Farmer’s Market and I will give you a dish of seasonal yum.

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