Saturday, November 14, 2009
His . . .
I'm not sure when it happened but at some point between getting married and having kid #1 and kid#3 I became a foodie. Caught me by surprise but that's where I am and no matter how strongly I feel about other things (the Bears, White Sox, Politics, Real Estate...) food always seems to bubble its way near the top of the list running a VERY close second to my family. Matter of fact, if food were a family member (not sure it isn't) it could come over to the house unannounced, use my toothbrush, and borrow money without promising to pay it back......that's how tight we are!
On the topic of family, the one person who should be threatened by my "love affair" but will totally understand is my lovely wife because her love for food just might surpass mine - I doubt it but it makes life easier for me if I let her think that as women have egos too! Seriously, it's not often that two people fall in love with one another and in love again with something that catapults their relationship to another level. I'm serious, that's what food does for us. Nothing excites us more than to search out a new restaurant, share a meal and dissect every element of what we saw, tasted, smelled, heard, and felt during our dining experience.
Food and travel have done more to shape the way we view life and the world today than anything else I can think of. Think about it, when you come home from college, what says welcome home better than a good meal? After a long day of work? A good meal. First date or celebrating a special occasion - food. Watching the game with the fellas - food. Next to the people you share them with, all of these experiences are framed by food and hopefully those who are nice enough to visit us here are enriched by just that - the food and experiences we share.
Hers . . .
There is a thin line between food connoisseur and freak, and I've seen the inauspicious looks as I’ve ranted about a dining experience to people who have presumed the latter. How does one control such a strong affinity for all things food? I know no answer, so I am resigned to the fact that being a lover of food is a blessing and a curse. It leaves you open for the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, but I wouldn't have it any other way. The pure joy of a well-composed dish can invade my thoughts, conversations, dreams and prayers for weeks i.e. freak. While a culinary catastrophe leads to a depth of sorrow, I do not wish even on my worst enemy. Does that define passion or insanity? I most certainly hope passion, but if not and a padded room awaits, please allow me to review the chef's credentials and please ensure there is lemon in my water and a variety of textures on my foam plate!
Luckily, I married someone who understands and shares that passion or is willing to share the padded room whichever the case maybe.