I'm a Sucker for the Theater of Food!

My name’s Steve, I’m 24 years old, and I hail from the 2 parts condemned 1 part ballyhooed state of New Jersey. I’ve eaten in osterias in Firenze, pizzerias in Bayonne, and cevicherias in Monterey Beach. I’ve waited tables at an upscale seafood restaurant in New Jersey, a classic French bistro in Williamsburg, VA, and—perhaps most interestingly—an Applebee’s in the suburbs of New York City. When I was four years old I stole a handful of my father’s crème brûlée, shoved it into my face, and briefly knew God. It might have just been the sugar, but I like to think that the main reason I catapulted onto the dining room table and broke out into the Macarena after that injection of burnt custard was because I had been converted to foodie-ism. My closest friends know that I don’t just tip-toe around sensory experiences; I dive in head-first. Whether it’s the resounding wallop of a perfectly broached fireside IPA or the simple pleasure of indulging in oysters straight from the sea, I’ve always been a sucker for the theater of food. Here’s to letting our stomachs lead the way. Cheers, Steve
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