inside outline

Sometime in the last few years, I’ve started obsessing about pig hunting. I’ve fallen in love with the idea of taking down a wild pig with my bare hands, gutting it with a knife and cooking it over an open fire. I’ve never been into hunting and/or gathering, but I’ve come to respect the pork so much, that I feel I must fully experience the process from start to finish. To actively engage the process, to better appreciate what I already love so much.

There is a prejudice against pork that I’ve never understood. Certain cultures don’t eat pork because of outdated dogma, set into place because of sanitary conditions of the time. They say that modern pig raising processes have created a very clean and lean meat, that no long resembles pork of previous centuries. Chickens are ceseptable to all the same diseases, yet somehow escaped such culinary persecution. The Chinese have always considered the pig the most noble of all beasts. They are loyal, smart, and above all, delicious. I dare anybody to befriend a pig, and not come out of it with some respect for the species. There is a misunderstanding with pigs, that since they don’t sweat they’re meat is tainted; that its filthy. But no one seems to realize that pigs, a very emotional animal, cry themselves to sleep most nights, releasing any excess salt that would spoil they’re delicious flesh.

I know its not going to change. It just makes me so angry when people relegate pork as a secondary meat. We’re the secondary meat, and we should bow down to such savory gods. So I’m getting to get ready, I’ve polished my brass knuckles, and tightened my belt. And if you want, you’re more than welcome to join me.

Coming back to Los Angeles, i ate nothing but mexican food for the first 3 monthes. New York knows it’s food, but could never get its head around Mexican. Almost all the East Coast Mexican restaurants were run by Chinese people, and the food made you long for sweet, sweet abortion. Tacos represent more than just a little bite of joy, they incapsulate the spastic energy of the human experience, all for about a buck.

From the first Spanish taco orgies of the late 1500’s, the taco has been a staple of youth culture. decadent and humble, cheap yet powerful, these delectable morsels transcends class, creed, and color. No one knows this better than Paul Bellezza . His taco blog, good going dot com, tracks his taco-centric voyage into wheel’d restaurant heaven. It hasn’t been updated in a while, but its still a good enough read.
shirt by Seibei