Foodsome and the Food Slum

Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about food. True, this is not something new, but it did compel me to write a blog dedicated to the stuff. I love food. There is something comforting and sensual about food that nothing else can replace. There are no ulterior motives with food. There is no selfishness or possessiveness with food. A hotdog will not fault you for choosing the buffet next door when you are really hungry. It is all about satisfaction.

Food is about satisfying not only hunger but whims. You could almost say that food is whimsy all packaged up in a Styrofoam take-out container. It really truly just makes me happy. I know you are supposed to feel guilty when you eat too much or eat the wrong things, but I think this is one area of my life where the guilt button is broken. I like what I like and avoid what I don’t. I make no apologies for my love of spicy food, nor for my shunning of lima beans. It just is what it is. Period.

I have a number of friends who seem to share my love of edibles. I rarely really find it easy to connect with people who are ambivalent about food, in fact. Really? You don’t care what you are eating? It’s just nourishment? C’mon. Really? There just isn’t anywhere else to go in that conversation.

But I have one friend in particular who shares my passion for food. Let’s call him ‘Steve.’ This may or may not be his real name, but regardless, ‘Steve’ loves food as much as me. Maybe even more. He’s what you might call a ‘foodie’. The first week I met him, he introduced me to Thai, Malaysian, Ethiopian and Cuban food. It was a food orgy. I knew I’d found my food soul mate. Until recently.

Recently, I have discovered that ‘Steve’ (again, this may or may not be his real name ;)), is a bit of a food snob. When you say words like ‘hot dog,’ ‘buffet’ or ‘Mongolian bbq’ he literally blanches (which, if you know ‘Steve’ is saying a lot). I, on the other hand, light up when I see the beckoning lights of a buffet or smell the sweet onions frying up next to the ‘tube steaks’ on the grill. Sometimes, food slumming gives me as much pleasure as imbibing on our world culinary tours. If it tastes good and I don’t have to cook it, I’ll eat it up. Food is an adventure. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to spend my safari in a five star hotel. Or in a kitchen, for that matter!

Food. Someone should build a monument. Enough said.