In fact, out of all the web’s literary gastro-onanism, I would seek only to serve as its Agony Column: one of those recurring subplots wherein strangers publicly air their desperation to reconnect with loved ones. This is how I think, sometimes, save that my lost friends are things like the smell of the huge pot of braising short ribs or that little song I sing at the Cactus Pear right before they set the fajitas down in front of me. Or Findlay Market in the springtime.

And secondly, to be candid, I am not a spectacular cook. I have my moments, mind you. My tiramisu has a body count. I can properly knead a loaf of bread. I have knife skills and instincts. Oh, and I can do soup… good f***ing soup, soup that clings to you like an army blanket when the first chill hits.

But, like I said, I am not that great of a cook, or even that much of an epicure. If you take food away, there’s not much here. Sometimes I am not far removed from that archetypical guy sitting around in his adult diaper eating corn nuts out of a jar.

But I digress.

Here’s the thing. It’s five twelve in on a Sunday morning, and I’ve had a chicken stock simmering since midnight. The steam has covered all of my windows, and I’ve written “yum!” all over the streaky glass with my schmaltzy little fingers – I am that happy that I can take water and cheap root veggies and anatomically bewildering chicken parts and turn it all into something so comforting and perfect.

… And I have this disquieting obsession with my next social event, A bacon tasting party. Just a few dozen of my closest friends,maybe some music, and the ecstatic paroxysms brought on by several pounds of cured, smoked and sundrily prepared bacon.

… And I want to go to that La Mexicana place on Monmouth street when it’s really slow, order the chorizo and (jokingly!) bark the following aphorism at the staff: “Mi Amigos! Mas Cocinar, Menos Hablar!” I don’t even think I’ve conjugated the verbs correctly, but my hand motions for “cooking” and “talking” will more than compensate.

…And I want to eat better. Well, the bacon stays. But you know.

So, as often as I can, I will post. Maybe some recipes, stuff I discover while eating out in and around Cincinnati, that sort of stuff. I’ll try to update often, but please, please, don’t take me that seriously.