I recently asked on my Facebook page, What would people like to see more of? One response was Food. So I asked myself, Why do I not write more about food? Well, it turns out there are some pretty good reasons.
1. I’m always halfway through my food before I realize that I should photograph it.
2. I’m always finished eating my food before I realize I should have paid attention to be able to describe it.
3. My memory of food is: “That was fucking delicious” or “Me no likey,” neither of which is helpful to a reader.
4. Sometimes my recollection of the restaurant name itself is “that place in Rome” or “that place down that alley.”
Kari Martindale likes words, so she uses them a lot. Kari sits on the Board of Maryland Writers' Association and is involved with various nonprofits. She writes spoken word poetry, children's books, and other stuff, like whatever blog post you just read. Kari has visited over 35 countries and all 50 States, and is always planning her next road trip. She likes her family a lot; they tolerate her just fine.
I can find the place again, I just have no idea what it’s called. I don’t remember what I ate until I eat it again, at which point I can rank it (from best steaks to best tuna melts to best ravioli) among the others I’ve eaten. And then we leave and I forget all about it until next time. If you ask me where the best (X) is, I’ll unfortunately be giving you those answers like “down that alley,” which isn’t much help to anyone but me…I’m just not cut out to be a foodie!
Ha! This is brilliant. And we are totally at opposite ends of the scale: I can probably tell you exactly what I ate and exactly where I ate it every time I ate out anywhere in the world ever, even if I can’t remember when it was or who I was with (although I can probably tell you what they ate, too). And there’s considerable photographic evidence to go with it.
I can find the place again, I just have no idea what it’s called. I don’t remember what I ate until I eat it again, at which point I can rank it (from best steaks to best tuna melts to best ravioli) among the others I’ve eaten. And then we leave and I forget all about it until next time. If you ask me where the best (X) is, I’ll unfortunately be giving you those answers like “down that alley,” which isn’t much help to anyone but me…I’m just not cut out to be a foodie!
Ha! This is brilliant. And we are totally at opposite ends of the scale: I can probably tell you exactly what I ate and exactly where I ate it every time I ate out anywhere in the world ever, even if I can’t remember when it was or who I was with (although I can probably tell you what they ate, too). And there’s considerable photographic evidence to go with it.