Food writers, if they’re interested in avoiding job hazards like heart disease, diabetes and/or having to be buried in a piano case, have to be strategic. Even when it’s hard. And resisting a Salty Englishman — with its bourbon and maple glaze, its crumbled Heath bar and sea salt — is hard. So, I cut myself one little piece. About a tenth. And as the fork went through that fresh-fried crust .