I hesitate to call this a food post. After all this is not even remotely close to being a food blog. I may talk about trying new foods as a by-product of traveling, but it is a very low priority by-product. It’s really more something I say than do because it’s something you’re supposed to say in travel blogs. You see, I am not a Foodie. In fact, I am probably a Foodie’s worst nightmare. I know how to cook exactly nothing and have no interest in learning any more. While I enjoy nice food, it’s really the food I enjoy more than its adjective. “Nice” to me means anything satisfying at that particular moment. Given that I tend to only think of food when I am already past Hungry and heading towards Starving, “nice” translates to “instantaneous”. I may appreciate a gourmet French soufflé, but I enjoy McDonald’s just as much. I’d say on average I consume fast food burgers three to four times a week. Other meals consist of cereal, grilled cheese and your ever-popular liquid diet of alcohol. In culinary terms, I am a hot mess.
But lately something’s been happening. While it might not seem noteworthy to the casual observer, it is significant to me. I fear that I may be developing a slight case of culinary distinction. Slowly I am creating a hierarchy of consumables that is more sophisticated than just “Good” and “Bad.”