Welcome to Crispy on the Outside, where we believe in two things: food with texture and intros with brevity. This is not your Aunt Linda’s food blog, where a pancake recipe starts with a memoir about a goat she met in Tuscany. No one has time for your semicolon-heavy ode to cardamom, Karen.
Let’s talk about it. You search “how to roast carrots,” and what do you get?
“It was a cold October afternoon in 1997. My third divorce had just been finalized. As I stared out the window of my Vermont farmhouse, watching the leaves fall like broken promises, I knew… it was time to roast.”
Ma’am. Please. I just need to know the oven temp.
And don’t get me started on the 38-photo gallery of what is essentially beige food. I don’t need a macro shot of your Himalayan salt mid-sprinkle. I don’t need a photo of your toddler’s hands “helping.” I especially don’t need your cat in the background licking a stick of butter. We all have regrets.
Pro tip: If your “Jump to Recipe” button is still six scrolls away from the actual recipe, it’s not a shortcut — it’s a trap.
Here’s how we do it here: no sob stories, no thesis statements about the emotional weight of thyme, and no recipe until you ask for one. This isn’t a literary journal; it’s dinner. And while I’m glad your sourdough starter helped you find inner peace, I came here for texture — crispy, golden-brown, emotionally uncomplicated texture.
So welcome. Pull up a chair, ignore the SEO goblins, and if you want to hear about my childhood, you’ll have to earn it. With biscuits.