Wednesday, August 31, 2011
I am sitting in my living room. My beautiful fiance is cooking me toast and eggs. The room is filled with that familar, familial smell of browning bread grains, the sound of spattering egg butter and it just makes me think of everyone that is not eating this breakfast. Maybe its someone rushing in the drive thru for a unlovable styrofoam box full of hollow foodish gross, or someone who can't afford anything today, or even worse, someone who can afford it, but won't eat because they make actually create a curve on their body. I am so grateful for every little snap, slurp, mmm, yum, burp, rip and touch. Eating good food, with great people is simply a divine experience. Food is available for reverence. Free food is coming off trees right now. Picking a little cherry, nibbling a tomato, eating our season. Exquisite dopeness.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
I have just added an element to the blog, "Culinary Idea/Word of the Day". As you will notice on the starboard side of our little foodie adventure ship, I am going to add a random word or thought or idea or technique or food everyday. I think that if you are going to work with food, and respect it, then its always a fantastic thing to be improving your quiver of culinary diction. There are definitely some people who are snarky and condescending with culinary terminology; these people are dicks. It has less to do with the words they are using, and more the kind of shitty person that they are. We are not going to be these people. Knowledge is power. We understand that collecting a common language about food will make us all stronger and more efficient culinarians. It is not about being superior to others, but the terms and ideas used in the food world matter. Chopping is not dicing. Stock is not the same as broth. A sauteed onion will and should look different than a sweated one.
So feel free to use this daily term with those around you. There is always an appropriate time to interject with your newly found knowledge about baba ghanouj, bone marrow or Boston brown bread. Annoy your partner, co-workers, cellmate, bassist in your REO Speedwagon cover band, Shuffleboard teammate or child that you are inculcating with the love of food. Then feed them all!
Sunday, August 21, 2011
I am 30. I am about to turn 31. Age has never really felt like a logical way for me to quantify things. I have never applied the social norms to my life, i.e.: At 24 I will marry my college sweetheart, by 25 I will have a career path, by 26 I have children, and by 30 I will hate everything that I have created.
I have vacationed within my life for what I feel like is just the right amount of time. I did the proverbial journey into "myself" and sorted out who I am on some level or another, what I need in my life and the things that I can discard and tag as clutter. Through all of this self-indulgent "searching", I always had it somewhere in my mind that things were just going to turn out fine...Strike that, turn out AWESOME. I would meet the most killer partner to share my life with. I would find a job that made me lots of money, as well as potentially famous and pretentious. I would live somewhere that felt like the most truthful me. Ok. I'm close.
I have a partner who is amazing. Silly. Gorgeous. Flamboyant. Intelligent. Loves me.
I have a job that is changing the world for the better. Literally.
I live in a place that most people dream of vacationing in: mountains, music, yippies, sun.
Im still itchy. I want to make sure that I am recognized to the fullest extent that I can be. By myself and others. I don't want to miss anything. I want to eat and drink everything, everywhere. I want to live by the ocean. I want to live in the mountains. I want to work out more. I want to eat out more. I wish that I could make tons of money and never work again. I love living simply and having a job that is fulfilling. I want to be cooler. Im pretty fucking cool for 30. I wish that everyone would pay attention to me. I wish I was the kid that could just read a book in the corner. I want my partner to know that I love her more than anything. I want to make more art. I wish I had a 9-5, predictable career job. I should have picked one thing and stuck with it. Im intensely glad I didn't do that. I wish I didn't miscount my blessings so frequently.
But, Im happy. Really Real Happy.