"It's been a year since the case of the Mondays,"

and if things keep going the way that they're going, then, well, damn, I've got it pretty good.

My mind has been as restless as ever as of late, pondering how my peers view me or whether there is such a thing as two truly compatible people. I've been living for the weekend these past couple of weeks, toiling away for the better part of four days in hopes of some rest and relaxation. Truth is, though, I've got nothing to complain about, and even as hopeless as it seems at times, winners never quit. And here I am again in the opening hours of another exuberant Monday, eager to forge ahead on my grind and find my way to the weekend again, where this time a hefty reward awaits me. There is nothing that cannot be done, no feat that cannot be accomplished. I remind myself of that at all times.

Expanding my mind, opening the gateway to higher education, broadening my horizons - these are the goals that fuel me. There is not much else that I need to keep me going - although some company along the way would be nice.


Wonderful nightmorning to be alive.

In Rodgers We Trust,

He's on fire!

Seeing Red.

A man walked into our store with his wife and two kids while I was working yesterday afternoon. He seemed as if he didn't want to be there at that very moment, like he was having a rough day already. I had to exert every ounce of my self-restraint not to add fuel to that fire as I helped him with his order.









He was wearing a Chicago Bears shirt.

A close shave

but we're movin' on.

Cogwheels.

Here we go.

Prior to the start of the new year, I had been playing with the idea of changing my beloved blog's name after more than two years of antics, rants, and musings. After careful reconsideration, however, I took that idea in my hands, closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and proverbially slam dunked it into my mental wastebasket. The reasons behind my sudden change of heart may be perplexing to some, but the change itself is relatively simple to understand.

This is probably the first time you'll hear or see me admit this, but I might as well come clean about: I'm a food snob. I much prefer the term "foodie", but food snob is what most would label me as, so I'll take what I can get. Since as far back as I can remember, I've loved eating meat. Whether it's chicken, pork, fish (if you consider that to be meat) - or even some of the more exotic varieties such as lamb, veal, and venison - as long as it's on my plate, I'm a happy camper. But most of all, I love steak. And not just any steak: it has to be red to the core.

Many of my friends and acquaintances can't seem to wrap their heads around why someone would want to eat a slab of meat that's more uncooked than it is cooked. If you ask me, I wouldn't have it any other way. This may not be a very pleasant thing to admit, but I once went out to dinner with a large group of friends, and one of my buddies ordered his steak well-done. I instinctively made a mental note of that and though to myself, "what a waste of a steak". True, that was a highly judgmental thing to do, but like I said before, I'm a snob. There's a method to my madness, though. In order for the true flavors of the steak to be harnessed and expressed, the juices need to be lucid, unrestrained, they have to come out. Cook a steak too long and it dries up, which forces the eater to reach for a bottle of steak sauce. Cook a steak too quickly and you'll be staring down a bacteria-laden meal, wondering if you should eat it or not. But cook a steak for just the right amount of time and you'll be dining on a luxurious, heaven-sent cut of meat that melts in your mouth bursting with flavor.

The key to cooking a steak properly, much like the key to many other aspects of life, is patience. I recently had the privilege to dine on a seventy-two, yes, a seventy-two dollar cut of steak, and all I can say is that it was quite possibly the most delicious meal I have had and maybe even will ever have in my entire life. I ordered it medium-rare, of course, as I was sharing my meal with one other person, but even so, it was more than red enough for me, and from the first bite, I knew that this was a steak done right. Had I ordered a well-done steak instead of a medium-well, I likely would have been the subject of much ridicule to the waiters, hostesses, the other diners, and just about anyone who knows anything about fine dining.

But this isn't about being socially-accepted or flaunting your wealth around, it's about savor, it's about substance, it's about depth. It certainly isn't about fitting in, for as I've mentioned before, nearly everyone in my immediate circle of friends and colleagues seems to think I'm some sort of freak for eating a piece of meat that's so raw and red. To me, it's all about the quality. I've eaten a lot of strange things in my lifetime, and if my preference when it comes to steak is what they choose to ridicule, then so be it. The same mentality applies to me, as a person. I have my loose ends here and there and I may seem to be out-of-sync with others my age, but underneath these odd quirks and layers of deemed 'imperfections' is a realm far deeper and richer than many of the minds surrounding me can currently comprehend. All I can say is: You guys really don't know what you're missing out on!



Allez cuisine.