I know we just met, but I have a crush. A big ol’ honkin’ grade school crush that’ll get me thrown in detention for passing notes in class. Not that honey badger cares. He don’t give a shit about detention.
But back to the topic at hand – I am head over heels in love with food. Far beyond eating my feelings or some oddball food fetish, I am obsessed with all things culinary to the point that there are fucking stars in my eyes. And chances are, though we just met, you have the same crush too, which is why you’re reading this right now.
I’m an east-coast birdie through and through by way of Washington, D.C. and NYC, who’s managed to take the plunge (bottoms up!) into the Southwest, chilies and all. I come from a clan of foodies that tend to equate exceptional dishes with love and affection, and though only one of us in my extended fam is an actual chef (and a damn good one at that), behind the stove none of us dick around. In 2010, in a moment of sheer boredom and general malaise, I decided to up the ante and combine my love of art and design on the web with the same on the plate. My approach to the kitchen tends to be as reverent as my mouth is profane. I’m a (pretty) good girl who says (pretty) bad words, and I am smitten with anyone else who does the same.
I don’t want to live in a world where food consumption is merely for caloric purposes. Or where all salt and pepper are created equally. I go out of my way to surround myself with friends that want to mainline a good recipe or ingredient like a junkie out for a tap and spike, and Spice or Die is my way of extending that circle of friends beyond geographic limitations. I promise to keep on documenting my fiery addiction if you promise to join me for the ride.