Ever-expanding menus now offering free waist-band extender with purchase of Frappemochacinno

You know what I’m sick of? Seeing things like this: Subway Tests Upscale Cafe w/ Expanded Menu

 Okay, you don't have to read it. I'll summarize it. Subway is trying to launch an ‘upscale’ café version of its stores on a case by case basis (thank god). I can’t think of anything more demoralizing that the minimum wage paid pimpled processed meat stacking sandwich maker serving me a subway chocolate chunk muffin and asking me if I’d like another shot in my mochafrapachinolatte while I wait for my bistro sandwich under their chic new lighting. Really? Next thing you know McDonalds is going to be making a huge push into gourmet coffee and Starbucks is going to start peddling more hearty food items… That’s already happened? Great. Just great. I mean the absolute last thing I want to do in my day is go and enjoy a nice afternoon macchiato at a McDonalds. They don’t have that? Oh. But they do have a 560-calorie (medium size) McCafe Frappe Mocha. I guess if I consumed one of those with my double quarter pounder extra value meal I’d satisfy my carving to know what most fat, unhealthy Americans feel like when they’re all doped up on sodium, fat, and sugar.  You know I’d rather just fry an egg in bacon grease and pile Gruyere cheese onto a fried piece of artisan bread, right?

I’m a food snob and I refuse to apologize for it.  But this is ever-expanding menus thing is a pet peeve of mine that isn’t going away. It’s why I won’t be caught dead in a Chili’s or one of those big chain eateries that try and please everyone by offering 80000 different entrees. So, I won’t step foot into a Subway Bistro or whatever the hell they’re calling it because it’s still a Subway with the big Sysco truck dropping off bags full of overly processed meat except now they have chic lighting and make cappuccinos.  People are too lazy to get their coffee from a coffee shop and sandwich from a sandwich shop. The lowest common denominator wins again. Now, screw you guys, I’m going to Wal-Mart so I can buy my groceries, my toiletries, rent a movie, buy a 6 –pack, eat a big mac, get a hair cut, deposit my mileage check, get my oil changed, and drink my McCafe Frappe Mocha in peace.

What is this bastard chef nonsense and what are you gonna cook?

I think we’ll call this The Bastard Chef. We could call it flying blind in the kitchen, The Joy of Fucking & Cooking or fixing it without a wrench, or man in kitchen without a fire extinguisher.  I’ll use it as a forum to post pictures of the things I want in my kitchen, the food I cook, the booze I consume while I’m cooking, and the women that make their way into and out of it. I’m sure there will be a weekly segment for guy’s night and maybe even for a failed recipe I’ll try and resuscitate or at least make palatable.

I get ranty. The problem with me is that I’m long-winded and this isn’t going be neat. It’s going be messy like my cooking towel, my stove, and the rest of my life. I will not give you exact measurements, often. I work with pinches and approximations. I won’t coddle you, I won’t sell you things you don’t need.  That doesn’t mean that I won’t use cool things you don’t have and talk about how cool they are. I’ll try and not make fun of you for having only one pot and a dull-ass kitchen aid knife your mom gave you the first time you moved out. I’ll give you some basics, and I’ll provide you with ample guidance for a half-witted literate person to prepare something that may very well look or taste like what I’ve made. No, wait. Fuck that. Even a full-witted articulate person will probably fuck this up. I am no Joy of cooking.  I am not even some bad ghostwritten celebrity chef cookbook that you bought because you saw it on the food network. Shit, I can’t even follow my own train of thought.  How are you supposed to? I will try and write the food segments clearly enough to be recreated. I will not take the blame for your culinary disaster. If you’re an intuitive type with some problem solving skills you could probably bridge the gaps of my shortcomings and find yourself pleasantly surprised with a tasty meal and an appropriately paired beverage.

Normally an appropriately paired beverage is a cold miller light or a glass of fizzy water. I am not some goddamned snooty sommelier.  I like beer and wine and will talk about them but I am only snobby about the shit I like and don’t like. My palate is probably fucked. A real wine or beer connoisseur might balk at some of my pairings. They can pleasantly go fuck off and die.

This might be a good time for me to tell you what I expect out of you. It’s nothing. Boom.  No bitching, no congratulating, no witty rhetoric necessary. Sit back and relax and take it all with a grain of salt. I am just some dude in the kitchen cooking the food I like and bitching about the things a 30something single guy bitches about I.E., not having enough booze, money, or time to do what I want. I’ll probably complain about my job and the situations I get into with women.  This could also be referred to as cooking for girls that will probably wind up wined up and hating me because there’s a strong likelihood that I really am a bastard. I am not known for being tactful. Could you tell?  

I might possibly be recognized as that guy who posts all those pictures of food or that guy who is standing in the kitchen of your favorite local restaurant talking to the sous chef acting like he works there. Feel free to make note of these worthwhile talking points as they highlight my grandiose culinary aspirations and simultaneously illustrate my complete lack of any formal or professional culinary training.

If you like what you see follow along. Run along if you don’t.