Speak Up

Monday, July 12, 2010

My Version of...

The Chef and I met years ago and food brought us together. I had never met anyone as interested in all things culinary like myself, as my future husband. This mutual passion has been a constant in our relationship and I must admit I feel a little trashy.

You see, the chef became a professional gourmet but I just remained obsessed.

One might use the term “foodie” to describe my pursuits. I now shake my head in disapproval, as I have always shied away from the term, “foodie”. Somehow I associate it with the whore at the rock show who rolls up on the band just hopping to get a piece. A groupie, who can't play an instrument but loves to going to the show.

Food might as well be the sexy lead singer and wine, the shirt less drummer because I throw myself at them each and every time I get the chance. No reserve, just smutty abandon. It is out of control. I want to know the details - the how, the who, the what and why. And like any good groupie, I don't stop until I get what I want.
Maybe one day I'll write about my lecherous escapades and late night romps with the dynamic duo. A seedy memoir of sorts. Until then I’ll simply continue to ponder my own perverse psychology, wondering why I can never say no and why I always want more….


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