Amsterdam Foodie

I’ve noticed, in amongst my dating shenanigans, that most of the rest of the food blogging population seems to be happily domesticated. Their other halves, while rarely named, are identified by initials or descriptive titles, like AA Gill’s ‘the Blonde’; they become a familiar presence in the authors’ work, distinct if not nominal. I’ve tried this in my blog, failed and given up, not because it was a bad idea per se, but because the familiarity and recognition for which I’m aiming don’t quite lend themselves to the turnover of identities we’re talking about here.

Perhaps the whole domestic bliss thing is (pun intended) a recipe for baking cakes, growing tomatoes with small children and taking family trips to the market… Frankly you don’t have time for baking cakes when you’re out six nights out of seven. You can’t afford a vegetable garden when you’re paying the mortgage by yourself (besides, you don’t have any children, for that matter). And a trip to the market is always a struggle after the inevitable Saturday morning hangover. But I soldier on (someone find me a violin) for you single foodie readers in the hope that, while I may get too drunk to remember to take dinner photos 90% of the time, I just might help make a good date a great date by recommending a restaurant to impress. So, until I meet Mr Foodie, homemade cakes are definitely off the menu.