Why are we here?

…everything now restrains itself and anxiously hopes for just two things: bread and circuses

I spent the summer in Italy when I was 20. I had been feeling very gray for a very long time; it wasn’t the family drama, or the breakups, or stress from school that was doing it in particular, but I couldn‘t identify what it truly was.

When I was there, my life turned on - every memory from that summer forward is in Technicolor: Separated from the onslaught of commercials and fast food, hydrogenated oils and high fructose corn syrup, familiar packaged goods and convenience of refrigeration, I was able to get in touch with immediate experience.
I woke up one morning with a Pinot hangover and a new-found Zen enlightenment. Though it may have been the hashish that spawned this enlightenment, my bet is on reality, because I brought it back and made it safely through customs.

I started living for myself. And cooking for myself. And I am happy.

Living with the philosophy of experiencing reality, in everything I do, has made me ridiculously happy.  So I’m here to share the things I care about: food, and humor, and writing, and pictures of food, and pictures of my friends, and thinly veiled sexual innuendo.

I am not a trained chef. I am not a trained writer. I am an often fuck-up (even in the kitchen).
I am a good eater. And I make really good food. And I am an often fuck up in the kitchen (read: guaranteed - you can make it, too).

So when you do spend too much time here (and I hope you do), I hope you are ridiculously entertained and maybe educated and hopefully inspired. In whatever order you like. But often, with the visiting. And hopefully we’ll all be happier for it.