Given my extensive history with food – you see, I’ve been eating since I was a baby – I consider myself an expert on the subject.
Given my extensive history in the kitchen – I’ve been cooking full meals since I was 14 and I’ve kept my husband alive with three squares per day for over 30 years – you will excuse me for thinking I know a thing or two about cooking.
My Dad grew up during the Great Depression, so we never turn down a free meal. (Or free anything else, for that matter.)
My Mom married at 19 and spent the rest of her life amassing recipes, amassing ingredients, and cooking with all of the above.
Food was important to both my folks and to my four siblings. As with many families of my generation, food was an endless source of discussion and conversation. We covered everything – we still do – from how much it cost, to where you could buy the good stuff, to which restaurants were worthwhile, to favorite recipes, to favorite ingredients, to most hated dishes and on and on.
Right after I wake up, I pretty much plan all my meals for the day. Even before I get out of bed. Sometimes in the morning, I’ll ask Christopher what he wants for dinner.
He’ll say, “I don’t want to think about that right now.”
What?! Not want to think about food? I want to think about – and do think about – food! All. The. Time. Perhaps, that isn’t a good thing.
Food also punctuates all of our family milestones: births, graduations, birthdays, weddings, funerals, and Saturday nights.
So, in my life, where there is food, there are stories. Most are funny. Some are cautionary. But all are fascinating.
My new podcast is mostly about mining the food lore – recipes, stories, preferences, experiences – of other career cooks, food bloggers, and lifetime eaters. It’s also about hearing from experts who contribute the food blogging ecosystem.
I hope you’ll listen in and leave me comments. Lots and lots of comments that reveal who you are beneath all the layers of food you’re surrounded with, literally and figuratively speaking.