The Vulgar Foodie (formerly Occupie Fitzroy), was born because I fucking love food, and I fucking love writing about it.
I currently reside amongst the foggy valleys and Victorian homes of San Francisco, California. Though with Melbourne as my former stomping/eating ground, I’ve realized my standards for cafe culture and food service are lofty. But I will soldier on, through the muddy waters of America’s burned coffee and mediocre brunch, just so I can rant about it on the internet.
These posts are generally limited to a list of ingredients of the food I’m eating, and my initial reaction to the meal or coffee being put in front of me. I reflect on and make fun of my experiences as a whole, from the staff, to the atmosphere, to the fellow patrons and their beards.
All in all, my aim is to experience the amazing culinary culture that exists across the world, while having a laugh.
This is me. Enjoying a ‘fuck yeah’ champagne on a sunny Sunday morning.
To determine food and beverage awesomeness, Vulgar Foodie may use the following metrics:
- DBI (Door to Beard Index)- An index of the time between entering a venue, to the time one is presented with an incredibly fierce beard (usually an indicator of its general hip factor and indie cred, but occasionally an indicator of old men in general proximity).
- Coffee/Beer Snob Rating- A rating on how much their coffee/beer doesn’t suck.
- Noms!- Is their food nom-worthy?
- How Poor Will It Make Me?– The damage to one’s presumably struggling bank account (struggling from too much brunch).
- Is it Instagram worthy? Because IG is where all the action happens. There’s no use paying money to eat somewhere if your meal isn’t going to look fucking fabulous on your smart phone.