Everyone knows that food writers lead an intensely glamorous life, what with the daily truffle rubdowns, the in-office Lafite fountains, the personal ham concierges and that little card that allows you to eat in any restaurant in the world for free*.
We're thinking that we may perhaps be out of touch with the American zeitgeist, because our inbox keeps filling up with pitches about Super Bowl-themed cocktails.
We get it - the liquor companies and restaurants of the world need to sell their schnaaps and lingonberry cream vodka at times of the year other than Christmas and Sveriges nationaldag. We still feel the need to come down from our heirloom salsify and edible platinum tower to ask - is everyone really guzzling down Mike Tomlin-tinis and Rex Ryan-ritas, or is it still, as we suspect, just beer?
*Absolutely none of that is true. Except for the ham butler.