You may not know this but my hair is naturally curly… i.do.not.need.to.eat.my.crusts.
Crusts are just nature’s way of telling you that you’re at the end of whatever it is you’re eating. Enjoyed that sandwich? Chew on this.
Admittedly I was spoiled as a child by two sets of amazing grandparents – one who would cut the crusts off, the other who would buy the kind of white bread that has the soft perimeter (the kind of white bread that as adults we all drool about – high GI, high sugar, more processed carbs than you can poke a butter laden knife at….and you know its begging for just that right amount of vegemite scraping).
In saying that, I have two exceptions in the crust whinge – pizza crust and shortcrust (ie anything high fat) Ok and a great sannie on the right kind of bread and there’ll be nothing left on my plate.
Except raisin toast (the ONLY food that should feature any form of dehydrated grape – but that’s another soapbox)…I just cant do it, the crust is evil dryness. In fact, theres a direct correlation between how comfortable I am with you and the amount of crust I’ll leave…but you have my full permission to roll your eyes sympathetically at the waitress when they come to clear my plate at a cafe and wonder why a 30-something has the eating habit of a 6 year old.
Right, now that we’ve had a rather disturbing look into my inner ramblings (and oh how some of you smirk because let’s face it that’s all this is ever going to be!) why start this blog other than confirm to societal norms that a “marketing” person should have one?
erm, well cos people told me I should…but it stemmed from travelling a ridiculous amount for work and the fact there’s only so many times you can try a hotel’s namesake BLT for room service dinner. So why not seek places to eat for those living out of a suitcase…and an idea was born. I’m not a foodie of the cravat wearing variety, but I love food (ok I can be a serious piglet) and there is a thrill to eating not only at fancy-pants restaurants but also those little down and dirty hole-in-the-walls that just do good food.
But of course, like all great ideas, life often gets in the way…a definite need for work change – cue big jump in the career stakes – and the usual relationship woes (ok so I can make eat-pray-love look like a walk in the park) and sometimes you just gotta jump…so it was goodbye to my beautiful Brisbane and back to discover my roots in Melbourne town.
And so here I am…and when in Melbourne, why not tweak the original theme to provide a ‘pleb’s palate’ food guide? With some other bits and pieces chucked in – there’ll be buckloads of tangents I promise 🙂 …feel free to comment (especially if you were with me wherever we ate and/or you get a mention – names will NOT be changed to protect the ‘innocent’)
So take from it what you will and all the analogies that ‘no crusts’ might be…but really its hopefully just no crusts = no bull (unless its being served medium-rare).
PS in case you haven’t already noticed I’m a big fan of the – and the … I type as I talk/think and yes that’s scary for everyone! I’ll leave it to you to imagine the facial expressions and talking-with-hands that would normally accompany!