So, I went into this kicking and screaming like a six year old at the tail end of an all-day birthday party at
Chuck E. Cheese. But, I'm here, joining the ranks of the other 8 million food and travel bloggers floating around the blogosphere who share their thoughts, forays and recipes on everything from
henna and paneer tapas to
crap no sane human being should ever put in their mouth. It's a crowded room, the internet, overrun with "experts" of all shapes and sizes, but I hope to find my place among this holy mess while sharing what I love: food, travel and more food.
As I mentioned in my opening post when I was blogging for
Gadling, my food mantra falls somewhere between cheesy grits and Chateaubriand, chili dogs and boudin, or my fav dichotomous entertainers,
Donnie and Marie. My familial roots hail proudly from the coalfields of West Virginia where brown beans and cornbread are king and suppers are accented with sweet tea and tall glasses of buttermilk. Yet, I can't step away from the finer things in life (perhaps it's that Taurus in me) and relish the opportunity to enjoy a three-course lunch with bottles of Bordeaux, steak frites and grilled crevettes.
So, there you have it-- bookends, because oftentimes life is neither paper napkins nor white tablecloths, but an amalgamation of both, at least for me. In the meantime, I hope you'll join me at the table and on the road as I seek to straddle the gray line that lies somewhere between fatback and foie gras.
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