I totally dig Tyler Florence.

Not in an "I heart Tyler" situation, but I like the recipes that he features 'cause it's stuff that I'd actually make and it looks like it'd taste good. (Unlike Rachael Ray's stuff...which just has no...panache.)

The Food Network up in Canada doesn't always feature Tyler's Ultimate, though. Instead, they do re-runs of The Barefoot Contessa and I don't care how mean this sounds, but that woman should lay off the butter. She uses like, a whole stick of butter for everything she cooks.

As a side note, I loathe Jeffrey Steingarten -- what qualifies someone as a food critic? I mean, is it just me or does it make sense to have a former chef be a food critic? I mean, we all eat. What makes Jeffrey Steingarten's palate so much more high brow than mine?

He's such a humourless, crochety, fat old bastard.

And a snob.

I hate snobs.

One of the head honchos that I have to work with is one.

She's such a bitch -- and if I'd had to work for her in my younger days, I might actually be dreading going into work now and having to deal with her. But now that I'm old and crochety myself, I don't really give a shit.

When you meet someone at work for the first time, it's just manners to introduce yourself, shake their hand and welcome them to the company. But this bitch? She was brusque, cold, curt and demanding. The way she thrust the copy back to me as she swooped her way downstairs to take a quick smoke break? I wanted to stab her in the face with my stiletto.

I merely disliked her at first, but I think a full-blown, all-consuming hatred is brewing here.

When I noticed the packet of cigarettes in her hand, I merely smiled pleasantly at her as I took the papers she'd thrust at me, and thought, "Choke and die, bitch. Maybe the nicotine tar up both lungs and you wind up leaving this company ASAP."

But the mean old bags always live the longest, don't they?