Yup, that's world traveler extraordinaire Rick Steves, in front of his "usual": a chicken tostada at a friendly Mexican restaurant near his office in Edmonds.
Here's what I learned that didn't make it into today's column (click here for the link)...
He grew up in Edmonds, where his father was a piano teacher. RS was going to follow in his father's foot steps, but ended up hosting travel seminars instead, which has blossomed into a booming business.
He's just recently discovered the pleasure of Belgian beers.
He's always been a food-is-fuel kinda guy. OK, that tidbit was in the column. But it still floors me when I meet people who are indifferent to the complex art of food, the comfort it can bring and the awe it can inspire. I try to make every bite I put in my mouth count, so I stay away from junk food.
Most of the time anyway. About once a year, I get an undeniable urge to eat a bag of Cheetos. Even though the cheese that goes crunch makes my fingers a hideous shade of orange. What's your guilty junk food pleasure?