Okay, let me start with this, I f*cking LOVE food.

(Or with a bit less vulgarity) I love in short order: the process of picking out ingredients to make a home cooked feast; smells of gastronomic indulgence that waft over me when walking through an open marketplace on a Saturday afternoon; the giddy anticipation at my favourite restaurant when I know I’m going to swoon over whatever they put in front of me.  You get the idea.

My soul is that of a middle-aged, borderline obese chef named Ernie.

What isn’t very appetizing about this obsession are my shitty pictures of food.  Oh sure, I can talk about the exquisite meal I had a week ago with the same fervour that most people talk about their children. They’re even allowed to have pictographic examples of little Jonny’s adorableness. Yet, somehow, carrying around a picture of each and every meal that’s made me want to explode with joy is a little insane?  How is this fair?  Then, when I think a little longer about this proposition and I decide that it probably isn’t a good idea anyway, as most of my food pictures end up looking like this-
This could be exotically spicy Tom Yum Talay OR Reconstituted Cat Vomit
Or this
 These could be Tender and Succulent Chiken Satay Skewers OR
Premature FaceHuggers waiting for their moment to pounce 
Or this
 This could be the Chef’s Own Special Saag Lamb OR Proof of Life on Uranus


The events leading to these abominations go little something like this-
  • Enter restaurant/pick out amazing ingredients
  • Peruse menu and select delicious foodstuffs to fill my belly/cook beautifully tasty & nutritious meal
  • Experience apoplectic fits of glee when my plate is placed before me
  • Immediately shove my face into said plate thereby impressing my dinner mates with how long I can hold my breath
  • Come up for air three quarters of the way through eating and I think that it would be ‘Supercool to document this experience and share it, yay!’
  • Attempt to rearrange food on plate so it doesn’t look like it was danced on by a rabid possum
  • Take Photo
  • Take another photo
  • Take another photo
  • Take 12 more photos from various angles hoping that one of them will look even a tenth as good as it tasted
  • Once I get the photos on a larger screen realize they all look like toddler vomit covered in a thick layer of cow drool
  • Cry
  • Forget about the last atrocity the next time I’m enjoying a wonderful meal and repeat above steps in an infinite happiness/disappointment loop


At the risk of sounding like a liar, I’m not trying to turn this into a food/cooking blog.  I know that statement looks like total bullshit considering this is the third time I’ve talked about food this week.  I also know there are already many out there that do it miles better than me and I would never dream of trying to take them on.  That’s like begging a cat to repeatedly bite you on the lady-bean while banging your head with a cast iron pot.