adj \ˈfȯrkt, ˈfȯr-kəd\
Definition of FORKED
With that definition, in hand, I’m going to be writing here and there in addition to food stuff, about other aspects of what strikes me with passion. This particular prong of the Forked!… fork needs some background. So I’ll give you just a wee pinch of it:
Let’s just get this out of the way friends. I’m writing on a blog, and going to be heading out to dinner with Emily, soon….VERY soon I promise, to detail our collective world and local views on the subject of cuisine, yet…..I don’t actually have a stove currently residing in my residence. I took out ads on Craigslist, and nary a stove felt like sharing the place with me. So I’ve stuck it out, and lived the charmed and very “elegant” lifestyle of a man that lives entirely on his own, in his own residence.
No. I am NOT going to use the “B Word” to describe myself, as in reality my life is far beyond the norm of a bachelor, and lies just a bit closer to that of a mad performing street artist that doubles as the town crying curmudgeon. I usually make my way up street, as we say it round these parts, to the main drag of Dormont once a day in search of local eats and treats, and cut down on puking up the ozone with my car when I really don’t have to, as green as it may be.
It’s a different world for this half of Forked!, entirely different than the amazing one that would explode your nose holes with the smells of simmering flavor over at Em’s pad, but in ways I feel that hitting the road on a daily basis for dining allows me a direct compare and contrast on dishes to a ridiculous level that the regular 6PM Dinner Table Diner may not have developed over the years.