I love food as much as the next cup-of-Joe, to the extent of being known as the "skinniest fat girl" my friends know, and often being unabashedly caught taking glamour shots of my most delicious selections. Like any ongoing love affair, no one can understand the magnitude of attraction experienced when you're temptations and tastebuds are allowed to run wild for a dish, or perfectly paired wine or cocktail set before you.
It's all really a matter of subjectivity. Just like no two people can see eye-to-eye, no two peoples' sense of smell or taste are the exact same either. So, how do these foodies know what something is "supposed to taste like"? Is it some special sixth sense that an elite group are so fortunate to be given? Or is it their pride in having access to fine cuisine, which has formed their beliefs.
(Because if I had that sort of talent, I would want to be hired as paid quality control for some of my favorite places to indulge, and ditch trying to write about it.)
Instead I get to settle for traveling around, from place to place, from restaurant to restaurant, digging my fork in wherever I can. Snapping photos of some of the sexiest things ever served on a plate. And quietly loving my food, because when it comes down to it, I can't really share with anyone how it makes my mouth and stomach feel all good inside.