They say I was born with a ladle in my mouth. Not a silver spoon, no. More like the ladle with whatever food my mother was cooking at the time she gave birth to me. I think that would explain my love for food — and for being fed.

My name is Ryan, and I’m the so far absentee second-half of this ‘foodie’ blog. I’d like to say I’ve been lost in the wilderness of food and drink, where the likes of Bacchus’ beautiful children serenade wanderers with the flow of soothing music and equally bountiful alcohol. Alas, I’ve just been busy.

So here I am, ready to rectify my absence and contribute to the already good work that one Miss Snarkattack (aka Gem) has done thus far. But before I post my first review, there’s a few things you need to know about me.

One, I drink. Like a lot. Not so much that I am effectively trolleyed, or have to be ferried in one, but I spend some considerable time of my social outings holding on to a martini glass or a beer bottle. So, expect amongst my opinion on food, my thoughts on cocktails, wines, tipples and generally anything that contains the elixir of inebriation. I am an inner city bar habituate.

Two, I am, how do you say it, ghey. I fly the pink flag, I dance to Kylie, I have the out-there hairstyle, and I wear the fashion long before the ‘metrosexuals’ made short shorts with sockless canvas loafers acceptable. But more importantly, and why I’m telling you this, is that my writing will be tinged with the homosexual flair. Either love it, or baboosh!

And three, and the reason why we’re all here, is my disproportionate love affair with food. I am a whore amongst dishes with particular fetishes for the Japanese, the Koreans, the Italians and the Steakmans. Okay, that last part I made up, but let’s just say that I love my meat. As if you didn’t already guess!

So there you have it, my introduction. Now, enough with the self-posturing wankery, let’s all go live, love, eat, drink and STAGGER!

*groan*

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