I am in a crux, juxtaposition, if you will.
How it is that someone who loves food, who wants to make sweet man love to barrels of ice cream and roll around in piles of sushi and beef tongue grow tired of the glory that is eating out?
I still do not know, but I know that I have a far greater burning desire to cook in the comfort of my home and experiment with new menu items than go out and spend 20$ for a salmon fillet with a sweet potato puree that I can cook in my sleep.
Is this what happens to everyone who learns to throw away the microwave and pickup a knife?
I feel jaded, I am the same man who has traveled to hundreds of new restaurants in a short period of time and enjoyed nearly every waking moment of it all. Yet, I do not have the desire to return to many restaurants that I love in the alarming frequencies that most of America is used to?
I currently reside in one of the new food mecca’s of the world, there are more people eating out here than any other state and there are more restaurants than one man can possibly comprehend. It’s like being in NYC except you can actually afford to do more than go on dumpsters diving runs
One possible explanation could be the strong lack of companionship on the majority of these trips While I do have a fairly large group of eager diners to attack the local eatery with, often times logistics end in nothing but a failure and I am forced to travel alone into foodie heaven. While I have zero qualms about doing anything by myself, it can grow tiresome to traverse to the same establishments time, and time again with no one to squirt BBQ sauce at.
Could it be that I think I can do it better than most of the amateur chefs out there? Yes when its one blogger vs. another in a fight to the death, but I certainly can’t work the line and punch out perfect beef wellington’s at a moment’s whim. I am nothing more than an adventure-esque amateur.
I know that I am growing tired of paying mediocre-high prices for anything less than exquisite food. Am I a food snob? Maybe so, but do I really give a shit?
The most important notion holds for me that if I am going to go out to eat I must have
A) A group of fun friends
B) Someone to screw afterwords
C) A defining menu item worth the trip
D) Something I haven’t tried before
E) Something amazing that I can never grow bored of
If at least two of these requirements are met, then it seems that I am more eager to jump in a car and end up in a great or even good dining establishment. Otherwise I figure, “fuck it”.
While I could just be blowing smoke up my own ass, I know that I love good food, with great people, and a spectacular time, and if those requirements aren’t being fulfilled, then to hell with it all.
Waiting for the itch to eat