I've been asking myself lately why I keep this blog. Is it because I enjoy occasional adulation? Who doesn't, but that's not why. Is it because I hope the dishes pictured will prompt some person to start cooking or just add a food to his or her gastronomical repertoire? That's more on the money. Is it because I like talking about things I like? Absolutely (and again, in my own defense, who doesn't?).
But I still have a little internal battle every time I prepare to type a post about a very simple, very visually unimpressive, or very quotidian dinner. The Internet is, in large part, about exhibitionism (I just read a great essay on that topic, actually), but I still can't delude myself into thinking that online denizens care so much about my daily diet that they want to read about the brussels sprouts, cumin bread, and chili I made tonight (recipe courtesy of Andy's mom; very tasty, but requiring no skill or particularly thrilling components).
So instead of photographing it or blathering on about the minutiae of how to make chili, I'll post this short piece by Kafka that I've liked for a long time. I also can't delude myself into thinking that this blog is about anything other than things I like, so I'll just give in to reality and go all out.