You want to know how I genuinely react to food I absolutely, unequivocally enjoy? I fucking cuss. The swearing is impartial to genre or value, and it slips out whether I’m dressed to the nines doing my best impression of a lady at a swanky restaurant or slumming it in a run-down eatery.
Cussing tells me that I love, love, love what I’m eating.
I don’t control it. Only food can.
My foul mouth started firing before I even got to stuff it when I sat down for lunch at Sansotei – a ramen shop that made its debut last fall. The fumes emanating from the bowl were…I’m getting ahead of myself.