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.”

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