F...

F is for...

...Foodie. Oh sweet Jebus and all the other super best friends can anyone save us from foodies? There are people who go out for dinner who can tell if the meal is good or bad. Then there are people who appreciate good food and can tell the difference between sea bass and sea bream and can pronounce everything on the menu properly. Then there are the foodies. They can name the farm the meat came from. They know the captain of the boat that caught the fish. They know which fucking field the kale was grown in. Fuck they know what kale is! They talk about the scene in Tokyo or New York right now and drop names, first names, of celebrity chefs like they were personal friends. The foodie is always middle class. They have a vegetable patch in their garden that they never shut the fuck up about and no meal would be complete without them telling you about the simply gorgeous salad they made the day before. They are bores. Talk about sucking the very life out of something that should be enjoyed not made into a chemistry class. I love my food, hell given the chance I would love yours too but lets keep things in perspective. I'm sure Gordon would agree. (The only exception being Italian Foodies)

it's also for...

...FFS. For fucks sake. It's rarely said out loud unless of course you are remonstrating with a chef about whether or not they should be remaking the steak they have probably overcooked. Probably. Most often it is muttered as you walk away from a table or it's a thought rolling around your noggin as they guest decided between the fish and the other fish. It's not the only expletive in the waiters armory but it is my most used expression of frustration and annoyance.

and...

...The French. If it hadn't been for the French and their ability to cook and eat anything there would be no good food. In the old days (1950's) people would eat straight from the animal with no thought given to cleaning, cooking, rubbing it with herbs or spices. They still live like that in some parts of North Antrim. God bless the French and their wonderful ways with herbs and small animals. They even gave us the word restaurant! It's derived from the word restaurer, which means restore. Huh bet you didn't know that. The whole of the industry is littered with French words, from the kitchen to the menu to the swearing waiters. Technically I am a Serveur de restaurant. Actually I am a grumpy (hungover) angry little man. The Serveur de restaurant does a bit of everything unlike the Chef de rang who supervises a section or the Demi-chef de rang who clears plates and fills water glasses. Doesn't that sound better than buss boy? Everything sounds better in French, gravy becomes jus, chicken dunkers becomes goujon de poulet, and even Adam Sandler becomes bearable when said in a French accent. The French, and Escoffier in particular, gave us the modern restaurant as we know it and if it wasn't for them I would be a simple plate carrier but thanks to them I am a snooty plate carrier who looks down on you when you struggle with simple words like jus. Viva la France! Viva la snootiness!

and...

...Fucking. Strong word. But then again when you decide to get your end away in a bathroom stall of a restaurant I have to assume it's more about getting your jam roll than a deep and passionate love. What is wrong with people? Seriously! How can a simple meal for two turn into a fuckfest in the toilets? STOP IT! Please stop it. Someone has to clean up after you, not me obviously. But stop it!

I'm sure there are many other things that begin with F but I am fucking dying here with a mongtastic hangover. Two bottles of wine. Pathetic.