Expanding my food vocabulary
Now that most menus read like goddamned first drafts of Faust, my Scrabble scores have gone through the roof.
Better versions of crappy food
Artisan corn dogs? You bet your ass I’m grateful. Now pass the house-made ketchup.
Making me look manlier at the bar
Ten years ago, I’d probably look like your average Joe. Standing next to a stick figure in an ascot and skinny jeans, I look like Ron Swanson, a medium-rare steak, and a bag of ninja stars crossed genes.
Getting bacon the love it deserves
No snark here. At least not from me. Those hipper than me may scoff and say “oh, the bacon trend is sooooo over.” And they’re right. It’s now achieved cultural transcendence. And the world is a better, crispier, fatter place.