People ask me all the time, "How do you know so much about..?" Usually, the topic is food and my knowledge therefore of food and drink. Answering them often offers me a painful glimpse into myself. I fumble, if only for a moment, and then begin to nervously provide way too much information, to explain about my background with cooking and food lust, how I fell in love with The Frugal Gourmet and Yan Can Cook in grade school and how I began making (perfect) omelets by middle school. Things have gotten so bad these days that I've sworn off grocery store butchers counters completely, no matter what the quality, I moved through farmers market vaccupaks, and during the last year have taken up a boning knife in pursuit of he perfect pork chop, haunch of venison, and roast chicken. What most of the time is manageable, occasionally spills over in the excessive and indulgent. There was the time I acquired an obscene amount of pork belly and spent the better part of two weeks making pancetta, several kinds of bacon, chocolate covered roast belly bits, and a porchetta the size and weight of a small child. I end up preaching to these unsuspecting souls about my strongly held beliefs, and they quickly realize that they've wandered into a very dark part of town. I'll attempt to reveal most of these beliefs, preferences, and standards to you over the course of the next several weeks, months, or until I purge these asshole tendencies from my well-fed body and soul.
Many claim to be foodies, gourmands and the like; I alone claim to be a food asshole.
