food porn, from the heart

I’ve been so busy helping this lovely lady get things organized for the launch of our neighborhood’s (free) print newsletter that, my dear Magic City friends, I haven’t really taken time to post.  So much great news and information is being collected for the35212, and I suppose all my cravings for community and hyperlocal dialogue have been focused there.  (You don’t mind, do you?)  It’s really an interesting story, this neighborhood newsletter.  The founder raised all the funds she’d need to execute the project through this Kickstarter campaign.   She’s even planning to spread the love throughout Birmingham, although mum’s the word on that for now.  At the moment, I’m pretending to be a bona fide editor…it’s oodles of fun.

While sifting through submissions, I stumbled across this.  Now, let me make myself clear:  This is not just a food blog, not just ”recipes and musings inspired by daily life and entertaining”.  No.  This is straight-up, anyway-you-slice-it food seduction.  Hardcore, sweet and succulent, online and clearly from the gastronomical heart,  food porn. 

And I’m so hooked, to the point that I’m now stalking one of my neighbors because, not only does she appear to have a talent in the kitchen, she also seems to be genuinely witty/charming/clever, she has the 411 on a local honey farm, she has friends who cook Michelin-grade, her photography is so good it makes me twitch…and that’s just after taking a few bites.

Now, all you regulars know that I’ve never shied away from publicly professing my adoration for friends/neighbors/local musicians and I’m certainly not too proud to do so now.  I’m a disciple, people.  I do, however, have ulterior motives.  For starters, I have begged this Birmingham brunette to register for FoodBlogSouth 2012 because I want to take the credit for introducing this main course to the local foodie culture.  And I’m already dusting off the rockers in preparation for a porch gathering in her honor.  You know, I wouldn’t be upset if she decided to whip up something simple from her culinary repertoire, like this undress-me-after-the-first-bite tart.  I’ll provide the plates/napkins/hungry mouths to feed.

Go on.  Indulge yourself here.  I mean, just looking won’t hurt your bikini body…

In closing:

Dear delicious neighbor that spends time in her kitchen, just blocks from my own front door: I hope you are not offended by my blatant and utter foodie fandom.  You had me at chocolate scones.  You had me at chocolate scones…