Tuesday, November 02, 2010
Food for Thought
I am not a foodie. By any stretch of the ketchup-drenched imagination. But that doesn’t keep me from appreciating other people who know how to properly appreciate food. Sort of like my tertiary interest in home design is not reflected in my own hand-me-down house. Sure, I hope to be a better cook someday, and I hope to one day create a home that doesn’t look like a small town’s basement-run preschool, but until then, I will appreciate the good taste of others. And when it comes to food, my current favorite food writer is Francis Lam.
Maybe it’s because Francis is slightly self-deprecating and completely willing to delve into territory to which I can relate (Halloween candy, that big hamburger/pizza hybrid at Burger King, White Castle chicken rings). But I think it’s mostly because he’s a phenomenal writer who also knows a shit load about food and can actually cook. As a one-trick pony whose trick isn’t even that good, I’m in awe of anyone who can be really awesome at two completely different things.
Lam’s topics vary from how-to’s (How to use that stale bread sitting on your counter or how to make your own bagels) and did-you-knows, to poignant profiles of Gulf Coast fisherman and glimpses into a world of gourmet consumption I know very little about. Plus, there’s just enough Adam Richmond-style food porn to satiate my need for detailed descriptions of fried cheese.
His latest piece about the executive director of the Washington State Potato Commission’s decision to eat nothing but potatoes for 60 days and blog about it had me snorting at my desk. Lam’s commentary on this guy’s slow descent into starchy madness is (Yukon) gold.
So, if you’re ever bored, or hungry, or in need of knowing something new, unnecessary and fascinating about mechanically separated chicken, I recommend checking out his Salon.com column. It’s a treat.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
Your blog has a new feature! And there is a picture of me on it! Double wow. This year at Halloween people kept asking me where JanSport was. Since I was Wilford Brimley, I would simply reply, "Diabeetus got 'er."
And now I'm done with diabetes jokes. They are done and used up like the bowl of sugar-free candy my grandpa used to eat while watching Nash Bridges. Huzzah!
Ah! Hahahaha I never asked you what you were going to be. Graying stache, Quaker Oats and all? Is it weird that I'm relieved you weren't anything involving a bonnet? Save the Ingalls theme for us! Huzzah.
I found this on the internet:
http://gatoisland.com/10/
HOLY CRAP. I hate cats so much!
Post a Comment