down with the inner foodie.
I used to be a foodie. I would really get excited at the prospect of eating a delicious meal, especially one that might have been raved about by fellow foodies. I would ravenously look up reviews on Yelp, Zagat, and Chowhound and then ask around to other fellow foodies to see if anyone else had been there and which dishes were best there. I would look up recipes to try at home. I cooked my way through Jacques Pepin’s Table one month, much to Frank’s delight
That was the past. These days, I am content with a simple meal of cereal for breakfast, a sandwich or pasta for lunch, and an easy one-pot soup for dinner. I no longer spend hours looking up good places to eat, happy to eat at the places we’ve been frequenting lately, and I no longer get excited at the prospect of eating at a well-reviewed place. I suppose it’s good for me, and it befits my new lifestyle here in healthy California. There are plenty of good eats here, and we don’t have to try too hard to find a good Vietnamese place when we’re got a hankering for some pho.
I’m not too upset about not being such a big foodie anymore. I still enjoy a nice meal, and I am a lot pickier about only putting quality food into my mouth, but I don’t spend so much of my energy on food. Of course, the food photography is totally a different story… I still like doing it, but there is less because I don’t go out to eat elaborately prepared plates anymore.
And here’s a random food-related joke Frank just told me:
What do you call a mushroom who walks into a bar and orders everyone a drink?