In the hip and modern area ironically named "Old Town" Pasadena, amidst the big named designer retail stores and saturation of restaurants, cafes and bistros lies a little gem living in the shadows poking its head trying to get noticed. I being in culinary school was looking for some lunch one Monday afternoon. I looked and looked and all I saw was restaurants. "That will took too long" I thought. I walked a little more and saw a café. "That's too expensive" I snickered and continued my search for the perfect lunch food for a poor culinary student. I felt like Goldilocks looking for that perfect porridge. As I stand waiting for the light to turn green and criss cross my way diagonally to the other side of the street I noticed a dull muted color, wooden sign of the beaten path as they say, that read “Father Nature”. I walked towards it thinking maybe it was some sort of yoga studio I didn’t know about. “How convenient” I thought “right next to my school”. As I walk closer to the almost disappeared sign I noticed it wasn’t a yoga studio at all it was a Wrap Place. Like a little kid waiting in line for ice cream I excitedly ran towards the dare I say café and walked in. I slowly walked in not sure what I was going to expect. One foot slowly in front of the other I looked around as If I had discovered unchartered territories. The café was simple, demure and fresh in its style. Wooden chairs and tables filled the space. The inside of the café really had no charm at all. I was pretty sure I saw a “Target “style 9.99 wall clock hanging proudly next to a "Los Angeles Times" review on the wall. Not very much to hold your attention but an awkward tall and hairy gentleman with a thick black moustache that resembled “Borat” from Kazakhstan standing in front of an 80’s style cash register and what might have been his mother Mrs. “Borat” from Kazakhstan with a smile the size of the I-40 across her face and large, thick dark rimmed, coke bottle glasses that slipped off her bedewed nose every time she looked down. I was all by myself in this little café and like in an elevator looking up at the numbers so as to avoid any sort of awkward greeting or conversation I smiled and quickly looked up at the menu. They both stared at me as I curiously began to take a gander at what was soon going to become my meal.
It took me a second to figure out what I was in the mood for. For such a small and tasteless place there were a lot of tasteful things to chose from, like the black bean hummus, Neptune’s Catch their signature tuna salad wrapped in homemade lavash bread and their “Gourmet Wraps” that consisted of “The Turkey Burger Wrap” which sounded appetizing to me because I love a good old fashioned turkey burger but a Wrap? “Brilliant” I thought as I began to narrow down my decision. With so many fresh and flavorful ingredients like fresh house tubule, parsley and pickled turnip my mouth salivated with the idea of all those guilt free items on one menu that I couldn’t make a decision as quickly as I thought. Then like a ton of bricks it hit me I saw it!! I’ll have “The Father Nature”, of course, why didn’t I see that amongst all the delectable and savory Mediterranean items? As if my stomach was yanking at me saying “get that get that” I couldn’t help but want to taste the goodness that is “The Father Nature”, boneless skinless chicken cooked on a vertical broiler, wrapped in fresh lavash bread with homemade garlic sauce and hummus, fresh romaine lettuce, tomato, onion, parsley and pickled turnip. Nowhere else in Pasadena are you going to find such fresh and simple items. “I’ll have The Father Nature please” Mrs. Borat looked up at me, slipped her glasses back on her nose and said to me in a very thick Middle Eastern accent “awwww goot choice”. Clearly picking their signature dish was the way to go for my first time at this little hole in the wall. Almost as if choreographed she began to make my wrap. As she added each ingredient and placed every item with care I could tell even with my culinary knowledge still in the state of infancy that this was going to be an experience. She wrapped my lunch in tin foil and stuck it in a brown paper bag, taking me back to a time when my mom used to wrap my lunch in paper bags only in this memory I was on a sandy Mediterranean beach wearing nothing but a sarong and running to the nearest bit of shade to enjoy my wrap. As Mrs. Borat handed me the bag Borat Jr. broke his awkwardness and smiled and said "Enjoy", and like in my memory I ran to the nearest bit of shade which was four walls and a desk to enjoy what soon became an everyday ritual.
