Since I got all metaphysical in my last post, and blabbered on and on about eating alone, this morning I thought "why not take the plunge and talk about fake food?" I mean, if loneliness can make food disappear, if loneliness can blur the boundary between actual food and the idea of food, then why not get right down to business and write about fake food? Aren't fake foods and food writing pretty much the same thing? Don't they share a common purpose? Aren't they both meant to whet the appetite? Are we tottering onto some pretty heady turf here? I think we are, but check out this awesome phony egg:
I made that phony egg. (Some days you need to pat yourself on the back.) I made it with wood and school glue, and REAL PEPPER. When the last layer of school glue-slash-egg white was still wet, I grabbed my pepper mill and cracked some pepper onto it. Just like I would an actual egg. Now, watch out, because I'm about to drop some big ass vocab on your ass: roughly, verisimilitude means the appearance of truth; the black pepper made the fake egg more truthful, more real, bumped up its verisimilitude value, and that, my friends, is what fake food is supposed to do. It is supposed to conjure the real in the mind, so that, once conjured, the appetite can kick in. So too with food writing: they are both meant to make you desire food. Now we are getting to the bottom of things. The appetite is physiological. The appetite has a brain and a stomach. Sometimes, by thinking about food, we want food. Whoa there, Jono! But seriously. Think of all the times someone has described to you, in painful detail, a really juicy hamburger, and you've said, "Stop! You're making me hungry!" Point made. Here is an actual breakfast, or rather, the picture of the actual breakfast I ate at the Morning Glory Diner in Philadelphia, PA, on Saturday, February 13th, around 10:30 EST.
If you are ever in Philly, I cannot more strongly recommend the Morning Glory Diner. It is in South Philly, on South and Fitzwater, and their flagship item, the most amazing buttermilk biscuits in the world (they require no extra butter, they're so buttery!), are not pictured here. Dumb me didn't order them because biscuits and gravy, or B&G, was not on the special menu that day. What a bummer. Fortunately, the goob opted for the biscuit, and she concurred that, indeed, it was the best biscuit ever.
