~28~ i don’t care about eating certain foods at certain times of day

I don’t care about eating certain foods at certain times of day.

…I will eat spaghetti and meatballs for breakfast, and scrambled eggs for dinner.

I thought of this because this morning I ate some chicken taquitos before 9am. This raised eyebrows. But I don’t care, because they were delicious.

At home, I will generally nosh on whatever strikes my fancy when I wake up — chocolate raisins, cereal, string cheese, or reheated chicken soup. I don’t have any qualms about betraying common notions of what kinds of food you should eat for what kinds of meal.

This applies to the outside eating world, too. Think about it: people love all-day breakfast places. But maybe it’s because breakfast food shouldn’t just be served at breakfast! Any restaurant serving food all day should offer all that food, all the time. Frankly I hate that restaurants have separate lunch and dinner menus. Gimme some fried calamari with my morning coffee. yeah!

But why do people think they want breakfast food in the morning, and steak at night?

I attribute all my food time-of-day non-preferences to one thing: dim sum. Growing up, I happily gobbled pork buns and shrimp dumplings (even though I was allergic at the time!) early in the morning while my parents and grandparents jabbered in Cantonese and sucked on chicken’s feet and tripe. I was a happy little Asian kid that ate lots of savory and weird flavors that most people wouldn’t touch before noon.

Do you think eating tacos for breakfast is bizarre? Or would you happily switch it up if restaurants allowed it?

I’m headed to breakfast now with my friend from San Francisco. We’ll see what I order.

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~13~ i don’t care about food (a guest blog by ed)

I don’t care about food.

You may have at one point heard me say that I don’t eat.

You may have even heard me say that I like to chew my food, enjoy the flavors, then immediately spit it out to avoid calories.

On the contrary, those who truly know me know that I do eat… a lot… and constantly.  In fact, I’m chowing down on cheddar jalapeno flavored Cheetos as I type this blog entry (my keyboard will, indeed, need to be wiped off later).

While I do consume abundantly, I don’t really care about the type of cuisine, the chef who cooked my meal, or the number of Michelin stars a restaurant receives. I’ve been to my fair share of upscale restaurants and a number of restaurants on the other side of the spectrum, and I’ve been, for the most part, equally satisfied with each experience.

I do caveat my statements by mentioning that I am a vegetarian (no meat, no fish), which I consider more so a religious constraint than a true food preference.  However, when dining with friends, family or co-workers, I am very flexible when picking a place to eat and usually defer to the majority, as most establishments will have at least one vegetarian-friendly option on the menu.

Now you may be asking if I, then, consider food to be merely a source fuel for the body.  On the contrary, I appreciate good food.  Several of my friends are super talented cooks, and I’m always excited to taste the dishes they make when invited to do so.  I also enjoy going to upscale restaurants and trying out their unique creations, as well as taking in the ambiance. However, unless a dish is absolutely inedible, either because the ingredients have gone bad or the meal was prepared inappropriately (e.g. burnt or severely undercooked), you won’t hear me say that I think something that I eat is “bad.”

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m not a picky eater. I’d be content dining at Per Se in New York or at a Denny’s in Decatur.  Whether or not I’d complain that I was in Decatur is a whole other story.

In a nutshell, I’m easy.  Take note, potential suitors!

About me:

I’m a second year student at the Kellogg School of Management, where Jenn and I are both finishing up our MBA programs. While there are some things that I don’t care much for, there are others that I care dearly about, including the brand of my underwear, the type of starch used on my dry cleaning, the level of the Dow, the availability of a treadmill at the gym, and little people (I’m scared of them). Oh, and of course, I care about Jenn, who has granted me these two seconds of recognition. And believe me, I am relishing them.

(Photo credit: NYCulinarian, amuses-bouches, 11 Madison Park)

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~1~ i don’t care about service in a restaurant

I don’t care about the quality of service in a restaurant as long as the food is excellent. – eldwin, tuesday night, @ pete miller’s

Shocking, no? Well, it was to me, but I recounted this inaugural blog I-don’t-care to my friend Nikky today at lunch, and…she doesn’t care either.

WHAAT? The whole point of going to a restaurant is the service. How can you enjoy a fine hunk of steak if it doesn’t come out of the kitchen for 50 minutes? What if you can’t listen to your friend’s hilarious story of a blind date disaster because you are too distracted trying to flag a waiter down for some more tap water, please? How in the world can you concentrate when you are starving, and you see the food come out first for a table that sat down after you?

Throw me a bone here, people.

I don’t think I’ve ever cared more about someone else’s I-don’t care.

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