Sobre Mesa

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Over the weekend, I had the pleasure of being a guest at the first Sobre Mesa catering event. Peter and Roberto, friends who grew up together in Tijuana, started Sobre Mesa after repeatedly daydreaming together about bringing Mexican street food to the East Coast. And let me tell you, these two know how to impress when it comes to food…

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I’ll have more about Sobre Mesa for you in the future, once their website is up. But if you’re in the Washington, D.C. area and want an invite to their next event (likely dollar tacos in March), drop me an email and I’ll get you invited.

DC in Three

Three photos I snapped while out on adventures in Washington, DC this past weekend. It may never entirely feel like home here, but I like this city a lot. And no matter how long I’m here, I won’t ever have spent enough evenings walking around the National Mall.

{all photos by me}

The Rider

He rides a motorcycle.

That makes him instantly crush-worthy in my book, even if I haven’t ever gotten a proper glimpse of him. Every time I see him, he is on that motorcycle, wearing a helmet, putting on a helmet, taking off his helmet….there was always a helmet involved.

I have a crush on the motorcycle too. It is gorgeous. And exactly what I would get if I had ever learned to ride one. That’s still on my bucket list.

But back to the rider, because I know that’s what you want to hear about.

Once I’d managed to slow my heart beat from a frenzied thumping when our paths crossed, I started noticing the rider’s style. If I could dress a man, he would have the rider’s closet of clothing. The only thing I’m not sure he owns is a three piece suit. And if he does, I’m done for. But he has all else: the casual, mysterious “maybe I’m a bad boy” outfit; the comfortable, practical “I hike all day to keep buff” ensemble; the professional “I can take you out in a courtroom or a bar brawl” look.

But what surprised me most was that his presence has been enough to make me realize that the style I live in isn’t the style I want to have. After two sightings recently, one of which nearly led to a fainting spell, I found myself standing in front of my closet, critically assessing everything, and getting rid of everything that didn’t capture my style perfectly.

Who knew a man could have such an effect…

{I have no photo of him or his motorcycle, which is kept under cover when he’s not using it. I considered trying to take a photo, but that would likely involve me, sitting in my car, waiting for him to appear, and that’s just too stalker for my taste. So this photo is from flickr user Attila Siha}

The Fig Thief

I’ve been stealing figs off of neighborhood trees lately. I can’t help it: they’re so perfectly ripe and I know if I don’t eat it, a bird will. The tree owners just can’t pick them fast enough.

For a few months now, I’ve been scoping out the scene of my crimes: a gorgeous Black Mission Fig tree just a block and a half away from my apartment. I’ve been greeting the tree and figs every weekend, watching as they have grown and darkened and called to be picked.

I sent a handwritten letter in the mail addressed to “The Owners of the Beautiful Fig Tree”, hoping to buy some from the couple that lived in the house with the sweet porch. Majorie called me and apologized — they have so many friends who want figs, they simply couldn’t give me any, but (she did say this) I was welcome to try one when I passed yet.

So technically, I may not be stealing at all. But I like to think I am: stealing a moment, stealing a taste, stealing a little miracle (because figs are precisely that).

Today, for the first time, I noticed the fig tree directly across the street from my apartment building. I’m not sure how I’d missed it for so long, except that I never come and go on that side of the street. I paused to inspect the growing figs and began plotting my 4:50am raids (always just one, always the ripest that would waste if it weren’t for me).

It looks like I’m becoming a serial fig thief.

If I still lived in California where figs are plentiful, or in New Jersey across the street from the generous neighbor with fig trees (he has since moved), these are some recipes I would make:

Black Mission Fig Crème Brûlée
Fig, Hazelnut, and Buckwheat Financiers
A Figgy Cake
Fig Ice Cream

What would you do with an abundance of figs? (Please feel free to link me up to some recipes.)

{plate of figs photograph by Rowena, used under Creative Commons license; figgy cake photograph by Julie Marie Craig of Always With Butter, no licensing information available}

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Credits

Jane Reaction

(logo and original branding) is a graphic design and art director who works with with small businesses and creative entrepreneurs, creating cohesive and interesting brands and websites.

Carrie Coleman

(photography) is a wedding photographer, whose goal is to capture the visual expression of a couple's love through timeless, organic images. She is based in Charlottesville, Virginia.