I Confess. Like many others, I am a Foodie.

Not sure what the official Webster or Wikipedia definition of that is, but I define it as someone who simply enjoys eating. This is not a food addiction-leading- to-obesity and a starring role on Reality TV kind of thing.

Although, I confess, I sometimes watch those shows when I find myself thinking about Chunky Monkey in the pre dawn hours of an insomnia riddled night.

I also sometimes channel surf to Hoarders and Catfish when I feel my depression turning to obsession.Watching those shows is more of a preventative measure on how to avoid a pleasurable experience becoming an addictive one.

This is probably where the mind doctors pick up their pads, raise their eyebrows and start scribbling furiously.Most foodies are not threatened with obesity simply because Nature has provided us with a high metabolism or good genes that keep us from tipping the scales.

Girl, I am tired of you skinny b*****s talking about how you can eat Anything and not gain weight.

What the world doesn’t know is that we our eating our feelings.

My journey as a Foodie began back in the lazy hazy days of Black hippiedom when eating natural was all the rage.

Back to Earth was our slogan and Vegan/Vegetarian restaurants, Juice Bars, and Farmers’ Markets abounded in the city of Lost Angels.These were not the trendy places seen on Food Network and Travel Channel today, but often little patchouli scented neighborhood joints with a few Goodwill cast off tables and a well worn counter. And like Cheers, everyone really did know your name.

Fast forward to Real world adulthood-jobs, taxes, Xanax.

Being a foodie became a form of entertainment where an otherwise boring, mundane evening could be transformed by a trip to the local market,or if funds allowed, sampling the offerings at one of the ever increasing ethnic restaurants sprouting up across the City.

For a Southern born grits and gravy girl eating out was sheer heaven. And according to many of my fellow foodie friends could be something akin to orgasm.

Girl please, you tripping, food ain’t never been as good as sex.

For many 60 plus folks, Boomerism and Foodie are synonymous.

Eating out, always a big part of any family gathering, now takes on an elevated meaning for ladies/lads of leisure. It has become the alternative to a date and often takes the form of meetups, food/wine/beer tasting, food truck rodeos, etc .

And like the proverbial kid in a candy store, there are so many eateries to choose from…a plethora of tempting sights, smells and textures all designed to satisfy any craving/fantasy/heartbreak/disappointment/joy that life sends your way.

So Readers, Eat, drink, and be Merry!

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