The Way To A Man's Heart

I like cooking.
Or rather, I like to eat, and cooking is a necessary bridge between hunger and eating.
To be satisfied by food is an infinitely greater satisfaction than to be satisfied by sex, or by sleep, or by a compliment.
Food is my oxygen. Without it, I’d be out in the street with a switch-blade remorselessly carving up strangers.
I like eating. I like my food cooked. Therefore I like cooking.
I suppose it’s comparable to the way I like breathing – I wouldn’t wilfully pursue it as a hobby, but as it’s a human necessity, I choose to enjoy it.

Preparation is everything. Preparation is the foundation on which we build our towers of culinary brilliance.
Without crushed garlic, there can be no bolognaise sauce. Without thinly sliced bread, there can be no Welsh Rarebit. Without pine nuts, there can be no paglia e fieno.

I Eat, Therefore I Am…. Fat

They say that Men think about sex every 15 seconds. Not me. There isn’t room in my head for thoughts about sex – it’s too crammed full of thoughts about eating. The only time sex is allowed to enter my mind is when I’m daydreaming about custard and imagine it being smeared over my buttocks.
Food is my life. It’s my drug, it’s my muse; it’s the very life-blood that flows through the veins of my sanity and ambition. I. LOVE. TO. EAT.
Just for my own amusement (and arousal) – I am compiling an A-Z Of My Favourite Foods. Watch this blogspace.. (and I only wish there were more letters in the alphabet)

RC 14-8-08
1240 BST