Insight from a Submarine Sandwich

For those who don't really know me yet, I have a seemingly weird aspect, in this day in age, to share about my lifestyle. Despite being male, single, and living alone, I have no strong urge or fondness for consuming fast food, take out/delivery, or prepared convenience foods. The last time I ever ate at a McDonald's was thirteen years ago; in Venezuela of all places, on a road trip along the coast. French fries, most of the time, have absolutely no appeal to me at all. Since some form of ground beef is an ever-present feature on the menus at work, it makes me less inclined to prepare it at home, and even more disinterested to eat it as some lukewarm, soggy, paper-wrapped, piece-of-shit patty on a bun from a fast food joint. To get more value for my money and time when I do eat out at a restaurant, I usually make certain to go someplace where I can order something exotic: something that I couldn't normally make for cheaper or better in my own home. As I learn and gain skills in cooking more things, there hence becomes fewer places that I'd bother visiting and dining in anymore, at least around this town, which is kind of a shame in some respects: one consequence being that it keeps me from being more social.

My current mad science project:
23 L of Morgan's Draught Ale
in a closed primary fermentation system.
Original Gravity: 1.045
Brewing temperature: 26 º Celsius

I'm weirdly different as a single guy when it comes to food. I know how to create recipes, and how to cook meals using ingredients from scratch. I'm a guy who knows the science of fermentation, canning, and pickling things. I can make all sorts of hors d'oeuvres, soups, and desserts, even though they aren't my most preferred things. I can cure fish and stuff my own sausages. I've made my own bread and wine; thus I have the means to have 'holy communion' in my own place should it ever become necessary. I wish I knew more guys like me who do this as well, or more women who can appreciate this talent who'd want to keep company with me. But as it is, it's more often the case that I get looked at as some sort of freak of nature. It's like I'm a lone living specimen of this rare and strange sort of sub-species of human being: Bacallario culina*.

I must admit though that it seems like within the past few years I've been neglecting the true spirit of freedom and independence I used to have as a cooking bachelor with my own kitchen to operate/exploit/abuse for myself in anyway, at any time of the day. Those occasions of grilling some pork chops at two o'clock in the morning on a whim, or having a sushi making marathon, or spontaneously dashing out to scrounge up some superb quality European cheese, or fresh live oysters from somewhere, have somehow disappeared. I speculate that it's because over that time it's due to me being more steadfast with keeping a "proper" diet for training purposes; perhaps because I'm reading more and following other intellectual pursuits and using less time cooking, or maybe it's also because condo living now keeps me restrained with mindful consideration in limiting late night kitchen clattering and mischievous experimentation seeing now that I have neighbours closer beside and above me. Since living here, I've been also deprived of the use of a proper barbeque, and my smokehouse for curing meat and fish to my liking. Life, sadly, became more regulated. Perhaps it's time to rebel a bit.

To drive the point home about how I should strive to keep my independence and to renew my zeal and passion for getting freaky in my own kitchen space again, I took a unique route. I thought I should be re-acquainted with my regular fear and loathing for fast food. Last night, I choose the closest place to me: a Subway, which isn't even a full shop, but just a service counter inside the local Petro-Can gas station. I went there around 11:00 PM: just in time to avoid any drunken creeps stumbling out from the sleazy bar across the street from it, and being stuck in a line up populated with such idiots. I realized then just how estranged I've been from buying fast food, and just how contra it is to the very core of my lifestyle. When I approached the counter, to place an order to the sandwich artist** there was then strange feelings of guilt: like one would have if one were a lifelong non-smoker at my age all of a sudden now purchasing tobacco, or (I speculate) if a real prudish person were to try to casually ask a kink shop clerk for the wildest and craziest form of sex toy ever made. Even with Subway actually having lot of healthier choices to put into a sandwich, many of which I opted for, I still felt cheap and dirty inside for being this lazy, and spending that kind of money for something so seemingly mediocre.

However, I'm glad I went through this exercise, at this critical time when I'm building my New Year's resolutions. To get where you want to go, sometimes you have to glimpse at the side of life you really don't want to ever have. I don't want to become so stupid, or let my life to decline so badly, that it comes to a point where food bought in a gas station becomes thought of as a 'special treat', or coming to the point where I'm so exhausted or time-deprived that this becomes a regular recurring option/habit to nourish myself. I deserve better than this given the skills, knowledge, and interests that I have.


*- This is the best proper Latin taxonomic nomenclature I could find that means 'Bachelor of the Kitchen'. If anyone has something better, or more suitable, I welcome you to so inform me.
**- No kidding, this is the actual title I saw in a job posting from Subway for a person who takes your order and prepares your sub, and takes your payment. . . what a goddamned joke! Real artists should rightfully be insulted with this ridiculous term. Trust me, no food that gets served to you wrapped in paper and plastic is a work of art. Aggrandizement with a meaningless titles is just another way of corporate world trying to dazzle you with bullshit. I should have walked out of there on that principle alone. But I digress. . .