I'm very excited. Yes, I picked up It Must've Been Something I Ate, by Jeffrey Steingarten, yesterday, and now can't put it down. Good thing I don't have any more exams 'til after Thanksgiving, because this book isn't leaving my side until I'm done with it. Hm, that might be a little awkward in public, but oh well. For those of you who like to read about food, oh, he's your guy - because he loves food. Adores. A real gourmand. Everything he writes is so well-researched, I'm just incredibly impressed. He'll take a very scientific and methodological approach to... everything. What makes the perfect cup of espresso. Taste-testing ketchups. What the chemical composition of a perfect glass of water is. How to make the perfect french fry. And he's funny! I can't moon over him enough. An excerpt from the book:
His personal tragedy, in this instance, is the possibility that his interest in good food is actually called by a lesion in the anterior portion of the right cerebral hemisphere. So, of course, he gets in touch with the Swiss scientists who published this discovery, to find out if he is suffering from such an affliction. Another excerpt, this one from his first book, The Man who Ate Everything.
How can you not like him? And he used to be a lawyer! Maybe there is hope for my boyfriend. Hahaha. While stinkyhead appreciates good food, he relies upon me to find it. (And then he talks about our varied dining experiences - for instance, the Minibar at Cafe Atlantico in DC, wow, was that amazing - at his interviews, and everyone is properly impressed and wants to eat there straightaway. Harumph. I claim at least 25% of his future salary, since obviously I will have had a big hand in helping him secure whatever job he eventually takes.) He will never be the type of guy who flies to France to meet with some famed French chef to learn how to make the perfect omelette, and then spend the next 2 weeks attempting to recreate it. It's okay. There can't be two of us in a relationship. If he became as obsessed with food as I am, then having to debate which restaurant to go to every time we have dinner.. no, no. That's *my role. *I get to choose where we eat.
For more Steingarten, he writes for Vogue. That's right. A seemingly brainless woman's fashion magazine carries one of the greatest food writers ever. It's worth buying the magazine just for him. Plus, I love looking at clothes.
On a tangent... nothing is more fun than driving. I love driving. Not driving in traffic - but that's a necessary evil, as I come from LA, and have learned how to entertain myself in the car in those situation. That's what cell phones are for. And sunglasses so you can unobstrusively check out other drivers. Personal theory #235: Drivers are cuter the closer you get to the beach. This is based on years of "research." But driving along a nice stretch of open highway, when the leaves are changing colours - or even if all the leaves are dead on the ground because it's so freaking cold, but it's brilliantly sunny outside - there's nothing quite like it.
And then there's Pica's disease, in which patients display a "morbid craving for unusual or unsuitable food, such as the ingestion of ice, clay, laundry starch, lettuce, or cigarette ashes." Even in the midst of an impending personal tragedy, I was gladdened to find, at last, hard scientific evidence that lettuce is an unsuitable food and that a craving for lettuce is evidence of a diseased brain."
His personal tragedy, in this instance, is the possibility that his interest in good food is actually called by a lesion in the anterior portion of the right cerebral hemisphere. So, of course, he gets in touch with the Swiss scientists who published this discovery, to find out if he is suffering from such an affliction. Another excerpt, this one from his first book, The Man who Ate Everything.
Last night I played the neatest trick on my wife. I grilled a slice of my best homemade French country bread, spread it thick with Promise Ultra Fat-Free nonfat margarine, set it on the coutner, sat back, and waited. Soon the toasty aroma drew my wife into the kitchen. Seeing the bread, she smiled broadly and took a bite. I'll never forget the way her smile froze, as she gagged, stumbled over to the kitchen sink, and gave up her mouthful of break covered with Promise Ultra Fat-Free nonfat margarine. What fun we have together!
How can you not like him? And he used to be a lawyer! Maybe there is hope for my boyfriend. Hahaha. While stinkyhead appreciates good food, he relies upon me to find it. (And then he talks about our varied dining experiences - for instance, the Minibar at Cafe Atlantico in DC, wow, was that amazing - at his interviews, and everyone is properly impressed and wants to eat there straightaway. Harumph. I claim at least 25% of his future salary, since obviously I will have had a big hand in helping him secure whatever job he eventually takes.) He will never be the type of guy who flies to France to meet with some famed French chef to learn how to make the perfect omelette, and then spend the next 2 weeks attempting to recreate it. It's okay. There can't be two of us in a relationship. If he became as obsessed with food as I am, then having to debate which restaurant to go to every time we have dinner.. no, no. That's *my role. *I get to choose where we eat.
For more Steingarten, he writes for Vogue. That's right. A seemingly brainless woman's fashion magazine carries one of the greatest food writers ever. It's worth buying the magazine just for him. Plus, I love looking at clothes.
On a tangent... nothing is more fun than driving. I love driving. Not driving in traffic - but that's a necessary evil, as I come from LA, and have learned how to entertain myself in the car in those situation. That's what cell phones are for. And sunglasses so you can unobstrusively check out other drivers. Personal theory #235: Drivers are cuter the closer you get to the beach. This is based on years of "research." But driving along a nice stretch of open highway, when the leaves are changing colours - or even if all the leaves are dead on the ground because it's so freaking cold, but it's brilliantly sunny outside - there's nothing quite like it.
posted at 11:23
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