One Day Stay VacA
Bridgeport, a shitty place like any other. Except this one has a ferry to Long Island.
So off Aa and I go on an adventure to the recently ghettoized white trash Island that is Long. A few things made it worthwhile. And it certainly wasn't the non-vegan pizza fare food that my cousin's graduation party had to offer. Aunt Michele, if you ever read this I apologize. But hiring servers to give out bagel bites is the most funny and ridiculous thing since frozen miniature pizza bagels themselves. I mean really. Steve, the queer bartender hired by a homophobic housewife, was definitely part of the 'worth it' category. As well as........................
Bridgeport, home to what I imagine to be one of the oldest surviving vegetarian restaurants on the east coast at least! BLOODROOT . It is also the only self proclaimed feminist vegetarian restaurant I have ever been to or heard of for that matter. First wave meets second wave in this Victorian decorated enclave on the Long Island Sound. Everyone who works there stems from the ways of our sisters, the 70's (mostly white) radical feminists. You know, the womanist vegetarians that moved on to love Catherine McKinnon, eek! The "all heterosexual sex is rape" character. I am so not hating on Catherine, but she is not my brand of feminism. Women's Rights as Human Rights, I get it.
Kitties run around you while you browse through the small but well stocked bookstore. I found audre lorde's collection of poetry, a new york guide to vegan restaurants, a book about female fire fighters, and ursula leguin without even trying. They also had little vagina chocolates with pink peppercorn....very cool.
No servers, no tipping, no cash register. I LOVE it. This just goes on to support my theories about how oppressive the power relationship of customer to server really is. Bloodroot knows what is up. Bus your own shit people. And don't tip me more because I look cute today. Roots in sex work, I swear.
We indulged in some chilled cucumber soup that had a lot going on, their very own Bloodroot burger that had the delicious trifecta of grains, veggies and beans, an escarole and cannellini soup with garlic and penne, a lentil, tomato and carrot salad and a pineapple Fizzy Lizzy. Yum all around. The Portuguese kale and potato soup looked excellent. And I had to stop myself from getting the vegan ice cream. Lotus Lime? Brilliant!
And what's better than an impressive assortment of salts, peppers, sesame seeds and hot sauce? Nada. Note the Chardonnay Oak smoked sea salt that I made sure to put on everything, and I do not even like doing so usually! Obviously we are talking about some hippie food here, so I didn't encounter any mindblowing flavors. But it was perfect for what it was.
The two of us ate for 30 bucks. Not the cheapest but I would have paid forty to eat outside on the water next to a rosemary plant. Well priced, simple and healthy food served by a feminist collective? Yes please! Everyone must go here. You can even take weaving classes.
Then we took the ferry. On the way there a black couple rolled down there windows and yelled, "You must be going to Vibes right?!" Gathering of the Vibes = gathering of the white people in Bridgeport to trip balls. No we weren't going to this hippie fest they spoke of, but it felt good being called out on my whiteness. "No man, but I guess that makes sense!"
No, no instead we sipped dirty bloody marys with a whole bunch of "leafers." New word added to my vocab, sweet.
I rocked my blue velvet dress and my new shoes!! Madden girl, kitty is extra.
Over and out,
jP
So off Aa and I go on an adventure to the recently ghettoized white trash Island that is Long. A few things made it worthwhile. And it certainly wasn't the non-vegan pizza fare food that my cousin's graduation party had to offer. Aunt Michele, if you ever read this I apologize. But hiring servers to give out bagel bites is the most funny and ridiculous thing since frozen miniature pizza bagels themselves. I mean really. Steve, the queer bartender hired by a homophobic housewife, was definitely part of the 'worth it' category. As well as........................
Bridgeport, home to what I imagine to be one of the oldest surviving vegetarian restaurants on the east coast at least! BLOODROOT . It is also the only self proclaimed feminist vegetarian restaurant I have ever been to or heard of for that matter. First wave meets second wave in this Victorian decorated enclave on the Long Island Sound. Everyone who works there stems from the ways of our sisters, the 70's (mostly white) radical feminists. You know, the womanist vegetarians that moved on to love Catherine McKinnon, eek! The "all heterosexual sex is rape" character. I am so not hating on Catherine, but she is not my brand of feminism. Women's Rights as Human Rights, I get it.
Kitties run around you while you browse through the small but well stocked bookstore. I found audre lorde's collection of poetry, a new york guide to vegan restaurants, a book about female fire fighters, and ursula leguin without even trying. They also had little vagina chocolates with pink peppercorn....very cool.
No servers, no tipping, no cash register. I LOVE it. This just goes on to support my theories about how oppressive the power relationship of customer to server really is. Bloodroot knows what is up. Bus your own shit people. And don't tip me more because I look cute today. Roots in sex work, I swear.
We indulged in some chilled cucumber soup that had a lot going on, their very own Bloodroot burger that had the delicious trifecta of grains, veggies and beans, an escarole and cannellini soup with garlic and penne, a lentil, tomato and carrot salad and a pineapple Fizzy Lizzy. Yum all around. The Portuguese kale and potato soup looked excellent. And I had to stop myself from getting the vegan ice cream. Lotus Lime? Brilliant!
And what's better than an impressive assortment of salts, peppers, sesame seeds and hot sauce? Nada. Note the Chardonnay Oak smoked sea salt that I made sure to put on everything, and I do not even like doing so usually! Obviously we are talking about some hippie food here, so I didn't encounter any mindblowing flavors. But it was perfect for what it was.
The two of us ate for 30 bucks. Not the cheapest but I would have paid forty to eat outside on the water next to a rosemary plant. Well priced, simple and healthy food served by a feminist collective? Yes please! Everyone must go here. You can even take weaving classes.
Then we took the ferry. On the way there a black couple rolled down there windows and yelled, "You must be going to Vibes right?!" Gathering of the Vibes = gathering of the white people in Bridgeport to trip balls. No we weren't going to this hippie fest they spoke of, but it felt good being called out on my whiteness. "No man, but I guess that makes sense!"
No, no instead we sipped dirty bloody marys with a whole bunch of "leafers." New word added to my vocab, sweet.
I rocked my blue velvet dress and my new shoes!! Madden girl, kitty is extra.
Over and out,
jP
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