I know that my restaurant reviews have been sorely lacking as of late, as has my New Year’s resolution of cooking every country’s national dish. This is mostly due to finances. I fully intend to follow-up with both commitments as soon as possible.
I have mostly been living off of $1 frozen dinners and crock-pot dinners. They keep me from dying. That’s about all you can ask.
I did manage to purchase, cook and then discard a blood sausage. I had eaten it before, and liked it, in the context of an Irish breakfast. There was one tiny little slice of it and I thought it went well with the meal of eggs bacon, white sausage potatoes and toast. It was irony and gamey and kind of good. I felt like a badass.
One thing I learned was that you don’t really want to take a blood sausage the size of a large bratwurst, cook it and just eat it solo. It was…overwhelming. You really, really know what you are eating.
Maybe if I hadn’t read the ingredients: Beef blood and snouts in a natural casing. Really? Did you have to let me know it was snouts? Couldn’t you just let me know that it was meat? Did you have to get that specific?
Perhaps it just needed to be paired with the right
wine straight vodka to bring out destroy its coppery bouquet. Perhaps I am not as worldly as I once thought. I used to watch Anthony Bourdain and Andrew Zimmerman and think, “I could eat that!” as they quaffed beaver rectum with aplomb. Now I am not so sure.
I let myself down. Can I really be considered a foodie when blood sausage makes me want to hurl? What if I don’t like foie gras?
OMG WHAT IF I DON’T LIKE FOIE GRAS?!?!?!?!
Would Anthony Bourdain just start kicking me in the ribs? I consider him my soul brother. I mean…what if caviar is terrible?! Are all of these fancy food a clever deception by rich people to make us poor people think we are really missing out on something? Are the rich just mocking us? Except for Kobe beef. I do believe that Kobe beef is delicious. It has to be. Anything you rub down with beer is amazing. When I rub myself down with beer, I taste delicious.
My whole world is crumbling around me. I need to know that I am a proper foodie. The only reasonable solution is bacon. Bacon is the bridge between the rich and the poor. Both the distinguished and the slovenly palette can agree on bacon.
Ahh. That’s better. Anthony, you can stop kicking me now. That’s right. Have some bacon. Yeah. There’s a boy. Eat it out of my hand. Good boy.