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too young for the crowd

There’s an idea that when you’re a photographer, you’re removing yourself from the scene.

It’s as if you aren’t interacting with anyone else, you are trying to be unnoticed, only an observer of what is occurring.

And when you become the photographer of friends, of people who are socializing… what are you then?

When will I be a person who is in the mix? Who actually lives?

fry master

There’s another idea… that food tastes better when cooked from love. That’s why I’ve grown to hate restaurants like chili’s, olive garden, and bennigans. Their chefs have no imagination, everything is pre determined by some corporate junkie. It’s expensive fast food at best… and what’s even worse is that these companies impend on the business of hard working chefs and restaurant owners! GRR.

Eating out at a legit place doesn’t even have to cost a lot. That’s why I embrace Austin’s Mexican joints…. it’s much like how you would go to hole in the wall Chinese places in Houston.

Man, I need to learn how to cook better things.

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An excerpt from Anthony Bourdain’s book Kitchen Confidential:

“Where’s that f***ing confit?” I hiss at poor Angel, who’s struggling valiantly to make blini for smoked salmon, brown ravioli under the salamander, lay out pâtés, and do five endive salads at once. A hot escargot explodes in the window, splattering me with boiling garlic butter and snail guts. “Shit!” I say dabbling my eye with a side towel. “peenchay escargots!”

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