Good Morning with Food Faces

Good Morning, dear Readers! I have been working on a story about farming for my paper, therefore-food has been on the brain.

So, if it’s ok with you, I’d like to welcome you inside of my strange world where food talks to me.

“Rise and shine!”, said Mr. Over Easy.

“I’m not sure that I’m ready for the day,” said Mr. Turkey Bacon Lips.

“But it’s time for you to go to work,” said Gilbert, the produce manager.

“I think I’ll play hooky instead and go have coffee with a friend,” said Mrs. Squash.

Do what you want, little vegetables. In the end, we all know what’s going to happen to you.

Yeah, we get it, Mr. Spicy Peppers. We get it.

You just had to have the last word, didn’t you, Banana Pepper Triplets?

My food seems to have quite the attitude. I suppose they learned it from their caretaker. Hm.

At any rate, have a great morning and a good rest of the day!

The Chicken Man

I shared with you just a few days back about The Chicken Lady that I met while doing research for the article I wrote called, Urban Chicken Farming, for This Land Press. I met several urban chicken farmers inside of Tulsa’s city limits and began to understand the movement to raise one’s own chickens within the city.

This man lives just a few blocks from me, so I biked over to interview and photograph him. He thought I was “pretty green” for doing so. In reality, I felt like a little exercise and I hate driving if I don’t have to.

The hens roamed the entirety of the back yard, but escaped to the coop at night to steer clear of any potential predator’s mouths. What are they-chicken or something? Heh heh.

The chicks clucked around, avoiding surly confrontations with the cats, the dogs, bees or anything else this man had going on in his backyard. It was a real zoo.

Raisins treats allowed me to get up close and personal with this golden lady. So pretty. So clucky. So demanding of the raisins.

After a couple minutes interviewing the Chicken Man, he offered me some eggs to go. I cooked a couple up for lunch, shocked by the color deep orange color of the yolks. These backyard eggs were different than any store-bought-even the organic, cage-free eggs. And they were tasty. Very tasty.
The odds are that I will be housing some chickens next year. I am slowly becoming more and more a fan of this idea. Now, to I just have to get the neighbor’s dogs on board with this idea….

The Chicken Lady

I recently wrote an article entitled, Urban Chicken Farming, for This Land Press. I met the most amazing urban chicken farmers and discovered why there seemed to be a movement to raise chickens within city limits.

This lovely lady resides in a neighborhood I could only dream of affording, and yet we are connected by a strange love of chickens. She’s named each of her little feathery friends, feeds them treats each day when she gets off work and knows their personalities.

 

She loves to hold her chickens as if they were pets. In fact, they’re so used to being handled, this little chicken lady wasn’t upset that I was all up in her biz-ness.

 

I love how the reptilian claws are attached to the feathered hen. It’s always been a dichotomy of fluffy and scaly to me.

 

According to the chicken’s owner, this is the most photogenic of the hens. I have a feeling this wasn’t the chicken’s first photo shoot…
After a couple of hours spent talking about the benefits and the superior taste of one’s own fresh eggs, along with the companionship the brood provides, it’s no wonder this chicken owner is enthusiastic about her pet of choice. She’s embraced the title of “Urban Chicken Farmer”.
Who knows-I may just be next.