Frank Bruni, a NYT’s food critic, passes on to his readers some of the lessons he has learned from dining and wining the last five years. Some of his guests do some wHining of their own:
“My pork loin is much, much better,” she proclaims, with a resounding emphasis on the word “my” and no hint of recognition that the loin wasn’t her pick: the critic randomly assigned it to her.
While others have some interesting (i.e. hypocritical) cardinal rules they live by when it comes to selecting their fuel:
My friend K. swore off veal, citing her sorrow for calves that would never grow to be (slaughtered) steers, but she ate young chicken and the littlest of lambs. She also ate foie gras, though animal rights advocates have protested the treatment of the ducks used to make it more vociferously than they have the lot of those calves.
As a vegetarian, I often hear people say they are also “vegetarians,” even though they still eat chicken and fish…Sure.
To each their own.
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