The writer crouches in a dumpster in a nondescript alley in Brooklyn, hunkering beneath a hot and sticky and seeping mound of used condoms, eggshells, grapefruit rinds, syringes, coffee filters full of artisan grounds, empty antidepressant bottles, and chicken bones stripped bare of all but their stringiest ligaments as if the bones still harbor hopes … Continue reading Tastemakers – Jon Doughboy