Tag: food

  • What’s Missing?

    I’ve never considered myself much of a chef. I don’t julienne. I don’t chiffonade. I don’t make foams, reductions, or anything that requires tweezers.  But a cook? Now that’s a title I’d proudly wear. When I’m cooking, I really only have one goal; Make enough food that everyone leaves the table full, preferably smiling, and…

  • Backyard Kings and Charcoal Crowns

    There was a time when a backyard grill wasn’t just a way to cook dinner—it was Dad’s kingdom. Actually, if we’re being honest, it still is. The throne may be a faded patio chair, the crown may be a cloud of charcoal smoke, and the royal scepter may be a pair of stainless-steel tongs, but…

  • The Cookie with the Hole in the Middle

    The Duplo cookie—that round, flower-shaped, sugary piece of goodness with a hole in the middle and a soft ribbon of filling tucked inside. Anyone who is anyone knows this tasty treat. The Duplo cookie never asked for attention. It didn’t need frosting that shouted or colors that competed. It just sat there—round, slightly crisp at…

  • Like Buttered Toast With Jelly and Coffee In The Morning 

    Sometimes, in my early morning musing with my coffee, I get philosophical.  That sometimes makes me want to kick my own ass.  I mean, why am I complicating a beautiful quiet morning with deep thoughts? That guy in the mirror is still half asleep and wont listen anyway.  Funny how we wake up, sit down…

  • Why I Create…

    Sitting with myself this morning, coffee in hand, I asked, “Why do you create?” …and the reflection in the mug stared back, quiet, like it already knew the answer before I did. “Why do you create?” I asked again, slower this time, letting the words curl in the warmth of the coffee steam. And the…

  • The Bottle Brigade

    The Bottle Brigade

    There’s an unwritten law about backyard grilling that no one ever explains, but everyone somehow understands: the beer bottles will eventually line up. It starts innocently enough. A man steps outside with purpose. He’s carrying tongs like a surgeon carries instruments. The grill lid opens with ceremony. Charcoal crackles. Flames rise. Somewhere in the distance,…

  • That Confident, Wet Bean

    I don’t “drink coffee.” I experience origin stories. You see, most people think coffee is just… a beverage. A tool. A caffeine delivery system. A brown emergency. I find that reductive. Coffee is an agricultural narrative. These are not “beans.” They are seeds—hand-harvested at altitude, kissed by volcanic soil, slow-dried under ethically ambiguous sunshine. When…

  • Operational Necessity

    As a kid, I had a huge appetite. Historically speaking, most teenage boys eat more than their apparent capacity would suggest. Me? That has always been true—at pretty much every age. Even now. Though I will admit, these days it makes me less aerodynamic and decidedly more sluggish. I’ve been asked how I can eat…

  • The Coffee Made Me Do It

    I need to come clean. I didn’t mean to overindulge. Honest. No one ever wakes up and says,“Today feels like a ten–Reese’s kind of day.” And yet… here we are. It started with coffee. Because coffee is the gateway. Coffee whispers things like,“You deserve a little treat.”“It’s basically breakfast.”“Chocolate pairs beautifully with me.” And who…

  • Docket #021626: The Snack Accords v. The Traje De Charro

    Your Honor, members of the jury, and all snacks and foods present by association: I submit to this court that I am not at fault. That I have always acted in good faith. That my interactions with food — and snacks, in particular — have been reasonable, measured, and entirely in accordance with accepted snacking…

  • Just Like Hers

    Funny how when you have a hankering for something, it doesn’t matter what else you have.If it’s not that one thing, you’re not satisfied.You’re left with just a little emptiness. You can have a fridge full of options, a pantry stocked like you’re prepping for winter, and still… none of it counts if it’s not…

  • Two Circles, Different Paths… and Me Here with My Coffee

    Snack time.Blood sugar dipping.Logic fading.Philosophy rising. I’m standing in the kitchen, cabinet door open, staring into the abyss like it owes me answers. And all I can think about… is donuts. Because donuts are one of those rare foods that feel almost diplomatic. They don’t argue. They don’t divide. They show up in a pink…

  • The Algorithm Knows I’m Hungry

    As much as I hate to admit it, I—like countless others of my kind—spend more time scrolling the socials than I care to say out loud. But I’m admitting it here today. The time spent scrolling is considerable. It’s not an addiction (and I know some self-anointed social media experts will roll their eyes at…

  • Home Alone (Yeah, not that one…)

    Every now and then—usually when I’m sitting around minding my own business, sipping something cold, letting the world drift by—I’ll get hit with one of those memories from way back. No warning. No reason.Just… poof. A moment from my past rolls in like a lazy tumbleweed, makes itself comfortable, and says, “Remember this, dummy?” And…

  • Epic Quests Require Fries: A Charro’s Story

    After our performance at the closing of the Cattle Call Rodeo in Brawley, I rolled up to In-N-Out thinking I’d grab a quick bite. The place looked packed to the gills. Maybe not the best decision I’ve made, but hope is a dangerous thing.  I was still in my green traje de charro—embroidered jacket, gold…