Mistura 2015, my premeditated worries.

   Folks, I am heartbroken. It may seem rash, over exaggerated even. But the manifestation of my gastronomic dogma has dissipated into a complacent fabrication of grease and the communal

Fausto and his black ceviche.

   Finding myself in an urgent need of a hobby and a malleable outlet for creative expression, I decided to turn to my friend the internet for answers. So I came