Dirty Dishes : Tree Hugger, Where Art Thou?

We love watching some earthy, crunchy, flower power-types shed some of their patchouli-wearing do-gooder status and make a living, as opposed to hitching up their bio-diesel wagon and following Phish around for the summer. Especially if these peaceniks' said employment gives the finger to the man.

On a curvy part of one of CenPho's favorite boulevards, there's a pair of know of two you-know-whats giving their finger to the environment.

Nice job with their new restaurant, though, for the most part. Part of a burgeoning bohemian brand, servin' up wallet friendly organic eggbowls with lots o' tasty toppings. 

But dude, where's my carbon offset? Why must every. single. solitary. order come in an environment-killing, landfill-fillin' to-go package?

Eat-in, take-out, it doesn't make a difference. Want salt? Rip open a tiny to-go type. Catch some catsup? In a pack, man. Cream for your coffee? It's in the plastic pod.

You call yourselves Earth muffins? Tune in, turn on, take out the trash (again and again, apparently, as we watched one tie-dyed type do about 50 times during breakfast). This place generates enough trash to rival Jerry Garcia's last Drum Circle Weekend Warrior Jam. Tsk tsk.

Somewhere Al Gore gently weeps.

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