Like so many of you I’m sure, I have a somewhat complicated relationship with food, though I mostly refer to it as an evolving friendship instead. Since I was a little kid, food never mattered that much to me, until it did; that is, if I was eating to essentially stay upright, then I’d inhale just about anything someone put in front of me. But—and this is the fun part—if food was the centerpiece of an “event” I was attending (dinner date, weekend brunch, backyard cookout), then, yes, I became as fastidious about food as any Manhattan dining critic worth…
