I’ve let this blog collect a bit of dust in this last semester. Over time, my increasingly occasional posts have included less written content and more pictures.
Sometimes, there’s little commentary that I can make about the food that I’m posting on this blog that extends beyond the realm of self-explanatory. Take Peter Luger, for example. The meat is beautifully aged, cooked ruby rare under a blazing hot broiler, and finished in clarified butter as if the beef wasn’t buttery enough on its own. Unless you’re vegetarian, pescetarian, one of those
idiots people who order steaks well done, or another demographic that Anthony Bourdain would never hesitate to mock - and to be clear, I have nothing against those groups beside the penultimate, I swear - the Luger porterhouse steak is so obviously, ridiculously, and sinfully delicious. Trying to describe this creation to someone who hasn’t tried one before is like trying to explain the appeal of the mainstream crap on Z100 that I regularly blast on the car to my classically trained mother. Thus, I choose to write nothing at all.
But here I am, motivated to actually write something about a meal that I shared with my best friend. As always, the photos are above. The obvious: good sushi (and the sushi was surprisingly good), in large quantities, is enough to make the average person happy. What’s also obvious is that a meal shared with close friends and family is more important than studying, recruiting, and all the other activities that contribute to the deterioration of relationships over time.
It’s a shame that despite my passion for food, cooking, and eating out, this is something I forget. Writing this, I hope, will help chisel this message into my mind before I enter the ‘real world’. If it doesn’t, I humbly request that all who consider themselves close to me to take up a hammer and remind me. The reward, as always, will be a home cooked dinner.