The Vulgar Foodie (formerly Occupie Fitzroy), was born because I fucking love food, and I fucking love writing.
With Melbourne as my former stomping/eating ground, I’ve learned my standards for cafe culture are lofty. But I will soldier on, through the muddy waters of America’s burned coffee and mediocre brunch.
I do not claim to be a food critic, mostly because I can’t be bothered entering my limited vocabulary into a thesaurus every time I eat. But I try my best, and these posts are generally limited to a list of ingredients and my initial reaction to food or coffee being put in front of (a usually hungover) me. I intend to reflect on/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.