- My love affair with food began a long time ago. I remember meals like most people remember boyfriends. “Any brunch recommendations in Williamsburg?” inevitably leads to a long-winded description of the best egg sandwich I’ve ever tasted and an explanation that involves fig jam, biscuits, articles in New York magazine, and a short story about the first time I dined at said restaurant. “Do you know any good Italian places?” will lead you to endure a sob story about my beloved West Village eatery that closed a few years back with no word, or a teary-eyed-tale of a 102-year-old Italian seafood joint in downtown Manhattan that was forced to close because of money-grubbing landlords.
I love to eat. But food is more than sustenance and palate-pleasing. Food is an experience. Food and taste are tied to emotion, nostalgia, desire, and passion. Scent is the strongest sense tied to memory, but those who cannot smell also cannot taste. It’s just plain science, kids.
So when I think about food, and when I think about eating, I think about my life. The pancake recipe that came from an old Adirondack cookbook and brings a smile to every member of my family’s face. The strawberry waffle that reminds me of my last mornings in Rochester before I have to go back to real life. The crispy, blissful potatoes that I made in the kitchen of the French Culinary Institute with my brand new razor-sharp knives. The risotto that made my boyfriend fall in love with me. Even the brick-hard cake I made myself for my 26th birthday that turned out that way because of the intense summer heat and my lack of an electric mixer.
I decided to start writing this blog because I have something to say about food. I don’t tend to stray far from my comfortable pastas, roast chickens, and brownies and cookies but it is because of how happy I am to settle into something delicious, and something I made. I like to order adventurously at restaurants, and stir, chop, and sift with my eyes closed in my own kitchen to create recipes that are not written down. I am proud of my calluses, the fact that I know how to hold a chef’s knife properly, and the lessening pain I feel every time I burn myself.
I’m not Paula Deen, Rachael Ray, or Giada De Laurentiis. But I have a feeling that’s why you’re here.
My blog header was so craftily created by Studio 71 Design.
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