Contemplating Mitt Romney and the current condition of American thought has put HG in a misanthropic frame of mind. Therefore, HG has been thinking of various food dislikes. As noted, HG will be visiting Montreal this year. HG will shun poutine, a Quebecois obsession; Nay, perversion would be a better descriptive. Montreal takes pride in its bagels. HG has learned that in that city bagels get a bath in honey water before boiling and baking. This strikes HG as a major error on par with the dreaded Cinnamon-Raisin Bagel. The Philadelphia specialties of cheese steaks and soft pretzels with mustard have many fans. HG is not among them. St. Louis Italian restaurants offer fried ravioli. Awful. New England clam chowder is glop (except at the Downy Flake Cafe on Nantucket Island). Chicago beef sandwiches are unpleasant. Soggy bread. Tasteless meat. Greasy gravy that drips on your clothes. Chicago deep dish pizza is an aberration. Southern hush puppies are little grease bombs and pecan pie sets HG’s teeth on edge with its overpowering, gooey sweetness. Only good pecan pie was made by HG’s late, beloved sister. Southern fried chicken is overrated. Koreans and Chinese fry chicken better. Despite some fear about reprisals from Texas good ole boys, HG states, emphatically: SJ’s Brooklyn barbecue is better than any HG ever tasted in Texas. HG despises all cream sauces. The only good hamburgers are the hamburgers HG makes at home. All others range from vile to borderline okay. In the area of exotica, HG, a lover of Japanese food, cannot stomach monkfish liver. HG does not like haute cuisine restaurants (especially in Paris) and tasting menus (too much food and HG always feels queasy after this overindulgence). HG hates all fast food chains (with the exception of Chipotle) and believes that fast food bears the same relationship to nutrition as the Tea Party does to civilized, rational thought.
