I’ve loved food ever since I was a kid when my grandpa would fry a piece of steak or fish in butter, and mop up the juices with a doormat wedge of freshly baked white bread and that would be dinner. It was a simple delight. Unpretentious and filling. That’s how I still like to eat. None of this molecular gastronomy crap. The fewer foams, purees, deconstructed dishes and fake soil I see, the happier I am. I’d take a pulled pork sarnie over a beautiful three star dish any day of the week.
I eat out as much as my waistline and pocket will allow, and to justify this addiction I started to write about it. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m pretty useless at snapping food, so if you’re after food porn photos then this isn’t the blog for you. I’m just too eager to tuck in, rather than worrying about what the best angle to capture the natural light is.