On every restaurant review trip I take personal pictures for my notes, to help jog the flavor memories and ingredient details (and to look like an obnoxious patron incapable of living in the moment). Then, the art director, an unshakably cheery fellow named Scrappers, sends a real photographer along after the fact, to protect my identity as much as to get shots that don't feature my iPad* screen, which is typically covered in chocolate sprinkles and ranch dressing.
Here is a brief tour of my personal stash of "food porn**," from some of the places that did and didn't make the cut. Enjoy. Except for one of them. There are plenty more if anybody cares.
(more after the jump)
* I don't have one of these.
** I don't know, these sayings grow on you.