sometimes when the crew cooks dinner we get to eat nicely. somedays it’s fried rice, and other days it could be a bowl of brodo. there are other times, however, when we eat like the bears that eat at the garbage dump in chernobyl. it is on these occasions when i watch the young guns with a mixture of disgust and awe as they go garfield on their gnarly creations with zero regard for human health. it makes me feel old, worrying about what i eat. more seriously, it makes me feel sleepy when i tuck into this kind of grub. i’ve started campaigning for a salad on occasion. don’t feel bad for me because it’s usually tasty, but with gout on the loose, i’m right to be concerned. for the record, that’s a crispy fried egg, topped with pancetta and ground salumi. wait, there’s more! it was served on top of some sort of chicken/pork “burger”, with a side of fried chicken skin. i survived. now where’s my fucking trophy?
