My Little Conspiracy

I am hellbent on a mission, and a time sensitive one at that. With Greece exactly four weeks and one day away, I must act swiftly: photos to flash, tactical tactics with which to tactfully attack, phone calls to hopefully make. Like Ralphie, his much lusted-after Red Ryder BB gun, and that pesky little Christmas Eve deadline in A Christmas Story, the hints will drop faster and furiouser, becoming increasingly bolder and glaring until Chef Boy finally *snaps*... somehow or other.

I am referring, of course, to Operation: Fresh Ink.

Recently, I came across an article in the Smithsonian's fabulous online food journal, Food & Think, a Heaping Helping of Food News, Science, and Culture. In it, writer Amanda Benson describes how the USDA’s Agricultural Research Service is working on a new method of tagging food in a less wasteful and aggravating manner; no need for paper and glue for stickers that leave gummy patches on smooth vegetable skins like tomatoes, or inky stamps on fruit skins that stain your hands and wet counters.

"The concept is pretty simple — a carbon dioxide laser beam etches the words or numbers straight onto the fruit’s skin, cauterizing it in a way that creates a permanent marking or 'tattoo' (ironically, perhaps, the same type of laser can be used to remove human tattoos). The technique was developed by researchers in Florida and seems to work well on grapefruit; it’s still being tested on tomatoes, avocados and other fruits.

Aesthetics aside, laser labeling could be a boon for food safety, since tracking down the source of pathogens (last summer’s salmonella outbreak in jalapenos, for example) can be notoriously tricky in our complex global food supply." (Amanda Benson for The Smithsonian Magazine)

The best and most mobilizing part of the article, however, is at the bottom, where she includes some pictures of food-inspired tattoos, and I was reminded of my now-critical quest. Let me explain.

Boy and I have this pseudo-tacit ~ okay, totally overt ~ agreement where we alternate turns getting tattoos; we independently got our first ones years ago, had our second pieces done at the same time in Galway, and I acquired my number three last July. He has yet to get his number three. And I'm dying for number four. Greedy, yes? YES! But still.

My conundrum is this: it has naturally transpired that each piece I've had the honour to be adorned with thus far has been done by a different artist in an important city and country for me: #1 was in my hometown of Vancouver, Canada, after moving to the US and missing the city desperately; #2 was in Galway, Ireland, where I'd like to die; #3 was in Seattle, USA, where I currently live and love. Just to maintain the accidental and fine tradition, I can't get another one here in Seattle, and don't see anywhere else possible in the next few aeons where I can possibly get my next one, except... y-e-e-e-e-s. There.

And the influence of ancient Greece in my life is utterly substantial and incalculable. Even my name happens to be Greek, and my special name day (as significant to Greeks as one's birthday) is January 28th. My body is just begging to be marked again... this time in Greece!

However, in all fairness, I technically can't get another one until Boy gets his #3, and I'm dying to book some appointments ~ one for the each of us. I know exactly what I'm going to get, and have already researched the best place to get it, too. Now if I can only schedule a prerequisite consultation for Boy with Clarke at Slave to the Needle so he can get his piece, then I can go ahead and call on Dimitri at Nico's to get inked with something gorgeous, symbolic, and dangerous... drawn by my brother's hand.

The awesome thing is, Boy already even has the perfect tat in mind. Back when he went to culinary school in Vancouver, he graduated at the top of his school, got the support of every highly-revered instructor there who attested he'd not only make an amazing chef, but was so brilliant he could easily open up his own restaurant and run the business end of things, and they were willing to back him up.

Of the three awards he won, he was also given a super sweet Japanese MAC Mighty knife, shown at the top of this post. Which would look awesome on his inner arm, no? Meaningful for him on so many different levels, aesthetically balanced and beautiful to see, and simply badass. What crazy cool chef isn't embellished spectacularly with wicked food tattoos? Unfortunately, he's treating the prospect of getting a new piece with the same amount of enthusiasm as that vasectomy I keep bringing up. Dammit.

I think he just needs to be a little inspired...






Parts of Piggy tat; photo by Marc Carroll.






This was a piece done by Nathan Kostechko for a vegan friend of his, who admits to breaking down once a year and having a big, fat, juicy one.






The Morton's Salt Girl




My Grand Conspiracy is hatched; all I have to do now is convince a Special Someone to get stamped and bloodied so I can, too...

Wish me luck!