The one thing I promised myself, though, was that after nearly 10 years, if anyone was ever foolhardy, crazy or dumb enough to offer me a fresh gig in a fresh city, I would waste a little ink right at the start giving myself a proper introduction. It’s only fair, after all: If any of you are going to take anything I say to heart, then the least I can do is let you know a little bit about me first …Come tomorrow, my first byline will be appearing in the august pages of the Seattle Weekly. And while those of you regularly reading this blog have already gotten to know me a little bit over the past week or so, not everyone out there is so smart, tech-savvy or engaged as you. Not everyone, in other words, is reading this blog every day (not yet, anyhow …), and so my editor and I decided that a wise course of action would be to fill some column inches with a formal introduction.Consider this first week’s essay my cotillion, my coming-out party as it were. In it, I will say a couple (thousand) words about myself, my spotty past and dodgy history as both a chef and a food writer, discuss the things that I love and those I loathe, make a few threats and promises. Like the excerpt above says, I’m going to be acting as your culinary point man for some time — your scout and guide and boon companion. And being as food is such a subjective thing, if I expect anyone to take anything I have to say seriously, I felt that offering some background was not only a decent thing to do, but necessary. It’s like a first date. I want to get all the confessions, fetishes, quirks and weirdness out of the way right up front. That way, if you’re still around for date number two, you’ll know precisely what to expect and will have no one to blame but yourself when I start behaving badly in public, drinking too much, pouting, falling in love with waitresses and wearing shrimp heads on my fingers and replaying the gravedigger’s scene from Hamlet at the table.Next week, things will be back to business as usual with reviews and criticisms and naughty words and ranting about oysters, cheeseburgers and pho. But for now, good blog-heads, I ask your minor indulgence while we get those who still only read this paper in its dead-tree format up to speed. And in the meantime, do check out tomorrow’s paper. Because while you might think you know what I’m about after wading through the various screeds, mash notes and literary slap-fights I’ve put up in the past two weeks, I guarantee I’ve still got some surprises in store.