In trying to keep up with current trends (because we all know how trendy I can be) I just finished "Anything That Moves: Renegade Chefs, Fearless Eaters and the Making of a New American Food Culture" by Dana Goodyear. It is, as the title indicates, about how obsessed we (the general 'we') have become with food, the more bizarre, the better. It isn't enough to love offal and nose-to-tail cuisine anymore. Now you are not considered cutting edge until you eat things like balut (duck embryo boiled alive in the shell and eaten whole, feathers and all) and green cow intestines (green because the cow ate a lot of grass.) Dining for some has become an adventure sport where they pay a lot of money to eat things they cannot even identify.
It's a good read, actually. There are interestingly weird chefs and food writers and those fearless eaters who have taken food culture into a totally different realm. She has chapters on horse meat, on marijuana-infused cuisine, insects, secret food cults and a lot more.
The book made me want to roast a chicken and fix some mashed potatoes. I do not want to eat duck embryos, thank you, but at the same time, I don't want you making fun of my free range chicken, like it was nothing more than unwholesome white bread. You (the general 'you') can eat whatever you want. I will eat kidneys and liver and sweetbreads but that green intestine? Nope. Frog fallopian tubes? I'll pass, thanks. Venison heart tartare on disks of deer antler? Maybe next time.
I would totally be up for a visit with some of your roast chicken and mashed potatoes. We are missing you. As Sam says, "my friend, Julie." We'd love to see you soon. The boys will go bananas, wanting to play with you and all their new little boy toy loot from the holiday bomb drop. I'm surrounded by super heroes, Star Wars items, fort kits and matchbox cars. LOTS and lots of matchbox cars. ltbt
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