. A blogumn by Roya Hamadani FOOD FETISH A few weeks ago I went to my favorite kind of estate sale, the kind of sale where the treasured hoard of a lifetime shut-in is boxed up and marked with masking tape only to be pawed over by the curious and covetous. This time the former occupant was a woman who had obviously spent most of her waking life watching QVC, and the rest ordering book club selections, the result of which was a cheap crockery collection and a library of about two thousand hard cover, glossy, full-color culinary tomes. Cooking of the South, cooking of Spain, cooking inspired by Renaissance paintings, she had it all, and now so could we for 2 bucks a book. What she didn’t have was any sign of cooking utensils, pots or pans. Her kitchen was a tiny, unused affair, the ancient stove dusty with disuse. “She never cooked,” said a woman who was her neighbor, “never once in her life.” This, I thought, was a notable thing. How many of us can stand up and say, “Yes, I admit it! I like to eat instant macaroni and cheese while flipping through gourmet magazines!” Or perhaps you munch on cold cereal while reading about stuffed salmon pinwheels or triple chocolate mousse cake with extra dark ganache. Me personally, I can’t say no to good glossy photos of brined turkey as I enjoy my peanut butter and jelly. It’s food voyeurism, and it’s okay, you are not alone. Food voyeurism is what happens when you love good food, but have not the time, the talent, the tools, or frankly the inclination to spend hours making it yourself. Restaurants are pricey, so you do the next best thing. You eat exotica...