Guerrilla Food is all about taking the culinary bovine by the horns and wrestling it to the ground until it mooo's uncle, and then roasting that fucker whole, kalua-style. I want to shut down and shut up all those “I’m a chef, and I have the certificate to prove it” posers of the world. My mission is to humiliate weak-hearted kitchen-boys and girls with their All-Clad home kitchens, while making women want to do thing to me they haven’t even thought about since freshman year of college… all on the cheap and all with food.
I plan to slash and burn new paths through the jungle of “the food world”. This blog is for anyone who has ever felt their heart hesitate a second when they tasted a Brasato al Brolo that they themselves cooked, using a hand towel to pull an $8 speckled aluminum roasting pan that they found stashed behind their mother’s collapsible steamer basket, out of a cheap apartment oven.
I don’t care if your poison is Coq au Vin served over a Saffron Pilaf or is it’s boxed macaroni and cheese that you “fancied up” with Oscar Meyer hot dogs. While the later is a revolting thought, if you do it with passion and you feel that gut-extending pride as you relax on the couch after demolishing said Weeniemac, and you did it without insultingly expensive gadgets, you have experienced Guerilla Food. And it was good!
...except for the heart-burn.