Author Archives: Michael Procopio

About Michael Procopio

I write about food and am very fond of Edward Gorey. And gin.

Lamb Dressed as Mutton.

No matter how hard you might try, you can never really get away with dressing up lamb and passing it off as mutton. Continue reading

Posted in Meatness, Rants and Stories | Tagged , , , | 18 Comments

Simply Astonishing: Nun’s Farts

It was an adjective that would hang about Christina well beyond her natural days, much as the odor of transgression clung to those she both prayed for and disdained. Continue reading

Posted in Rants and Stories, Sweets and the Like | Tagged , , , , , | 23 Comments

Let’s Just Forget That Ever Happened.

Let’s just forget these past few months ever happened, shall we? Continue reading

Posted in Liquids | Tagged , , , , | 54 Comments

Crème de Pot

In 2018, I am now far too old to be mixing drugs and alcohol cavalierly and have yet to secure my Election Night companionship, but I do know what I’ll be serving to those who do decide to endure this biennial ritual with me: Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | 13 Comments

In My Own Little Corner.

I’m not going to worry about whether I’m the office type or not. It doesn’t matter. Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | 14 Comments

Hallo, Fremder.

No one needs to live in a near-constant state of darkness unless one is, say, Scandinavian. Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 46 Comments

Iceberg with Russian Dressing

To serve, place each iceberg wedge in a deep bowl and ladle dressing over them until only their tips are left exposed, which will be fun for your guests because they will have absolutely no idea how much crap they’ll have to wade through to get to the bottom of everything. Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , | 18 Comments

Down Argentine Way

It was then that I realized something very important: diapers don’t have feelings. Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | 14 Comments

A Question of Size

It isn’t my job to judge you if you like your steak and your pepper mills well endowed. Judgement’s more like my hobby, really. Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | 18 Comments

So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish.

I quit my job. The restaurant one. The one where, over a span of seventeen years, I have sold (and possibly eaten) several tons of sea life. Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | 66 Comments