i love eating food.

what can i do, duders?
i'm about that food love, and i'm about that cooking life.
y'know?
that's not something that everybody is into.
no, really.
plenty of people say it,
but they aren't about it,
like for really-really 'bout it 'bout.
that's because talking about stuff is easy,
but doo-dooing that freaky sh!t is something else entirely.
c'mon, neighbors-
this is real talk right here.
just yesterday,
i realized something, in passing,
during a conversation with a couple of big people.
yeah. big people.
like, not only are they adults, but they're also pleasantly plumpy dumplings
who certainly didn't reach that size from exercising too much, y'feel me?
word up.
i said i love food,
and they said, we do too.
commonality of interests is a welcoming notion,
and i took that as an open invitation to discuss sandwiches,
since i was coming in hot off of a superfire masterwork of eighth-day
weeklong love-affairing with all that breadsly embracing an' that....
imagine my surprise when these folks hit me with a litany of stuff they don't like.
as in-
beans: no.
sauce: no.
'weird' bread: no.
tofu: OBviously not.
seitan: they're religious,
and we know how it sounds when you say it without spelling it, don't we?
and on and on and on.
as our initially engaging, but quickly degenerating conversation continued,
one of 'em mentioned that it's hard to cook for 'up-here' people,
because they don't use spices.....
honestly,
i think it goes deeper than that.
they don't use ingredients.
guys,
maybe i'm just a mid-level food snob, with first-world aspirations towards
entitled vegan magic munch-ups on my mind,
but it seems pretty basic, and reeeeeeally budget when ranch dressing,
ketchup, and mustard  are the only three things you add to grilled chicken,
mac'n'cheese, and burgers!
that's so weird to me,
especially when these mincey necktard mutha-'uckers ask me what i eat,
(so often that it's tiresome and banal at this point)
and scowl through the first five things i name.
that's pretty lame,because in the reality of our respective versions of food lovin',
they have a waaaaaay shorter list of acceptable ingestibles than i EVER have.
here's what i'm getting at-
i LOVE food.
and i cook up all this fancy hot business because i genuinely appreciate
the flavors and textures and the ethnic eccentricities of the wider culinary world
beyond the borders and limitations of the generic boring fat american palette.
cooking, and creating, and appreciating are all part of that lovely love-in.
that's no joke.
so,
as i sat there, digesting leftovers, and digesting their position on food,
based on their far-less-specific version of words and meanings,
it hit me.
i love food, and i love eating food,
but these sucka-fools and their teeming contemporaries aren't about it at all.
they just love eating.
the less it resembles food, the more they want.
and that's pretty beat, in my opinion.
an unfortunate attendance to primitive needs,
indulgent. but not luxurious,
with quantity over quality over substance over information over effort.
i mentioned at the beginning,
i'm about that life,
and that life calls, and screams, and hoots, and hollers, and demands
active participation and involvement in the process and procuring of all
the expert elite luxurious luscious delicious present and attentive
accountable excellence that worthy warrior poetry is composed of.
you are what you eat, i s'pose,
and i want to be a symphony of everything better than anything else.
is that crazy?
maybe.
is it dope?
you bet your A* it is.
how did the conversation end?
poorly.
no surprises there.
the final comment went something like this-
how can you not understand what it is i do,
when i cook and eat more kinds of food, more types of ingredients,
and honestly, more of all of it than than you do,
even though i don't eat ANYthing you do?
too much is the right amount,
but there is one other other rule that supersedes that one by an order of magnitude:
just be dope, or F* right off.
yep.
when it comes to Folk Life & Liberty
rules is rules;
never quiet, never soft.....