Growing up I was always told that girls could do anything that boys could do. My mother was and is an excellent example of this. The woman could whip up any meal from scratch after a long day of mudding and taping drywall for one of the many reno projects that I seemed to grow up in. Mom is one of those annoying people who seemingly can do anything. My brother is another. He found tent poles at a sale, bought them, rewelded them and then sewed a (fire and waterproof) tent customized to his needs. I hate people like that.
I am not one of those people. When I took up painting, the instructor generously commented that I have a modern and abstract style...during still life class. My mom was the class mom who always came in with some awesome craft idea that even a monkey could do. I always seemed to make a glue blob. The one thing I liked doing that I seemed to do well at was cooking. I love to cook. I hate to bake but I love to cook. It was really hard to get any practice as it as there was a hierarchy in the house as to who was cooking: my mom, my brother (who would whip up tiramisu for girlfriend's birthdays), my dad, New China Kitchen, Junior's and then me. It was like my secret identity was mild-mannered clueless kid by day and Iron Chef by night. It seemed that the general impression was that I had the culinary ability to nuke a can of soup or a Pizza Pop. I spent years watching my mom and countless cooking shows back when there was no Food Network and celebrity chefs. No one had any idea why I loved watching Wok with Yan so much or the Frugal Gourmet.
As I got older and started to work, I was often left to my own devices as my parents were able to take time to go to the lake. My older brother would move out and into his own home with a freezer full of pies and homemade buns (hate that guy) and it was just me and occasionally the dog. What on earth did they think I was eating if I could not cook?
I cook out of necessity now. After years of lofty goals, crippling self esteem issues, some laziness, fear of failure I did not conquer the world as I thought that I was meant to. I have jumped from job to job collecting a paycheck but not a career of any note. I married one of my best friends and I am now a stay at home mom to a gorgeous but challenging baby who may or may not turn out to be an evil genius. Despite my many feminist ideals I have become (the horror) a homemaker and I love it. I get up very early with The Kid and we start our day with a play, have lots of giggles, some housework, gardening, and more play. I also have The Dog who is my trusty sidekick and the most neurotic creature in the house. There is also The Boy who is my champion and greatest culinary fan.
It is my hope that this blog becomes a place where I talk about food, glorious food and share my lifestory through food, recipes, anecdotes and life. My tongue will often be found firmly in my cheek, I will share some of my less than stellar results in the world of domestic bliss and there will be a little music along the way. I like with equal love bacon, broccoli, hummous, cheddar cheese, really good croutons, my spaghetti sauce, bacon, steak, Mexican, Greek, Japanese, crazy ass spices and carbs. I have 5 pounds of baby weight to lose, my sanity to regain and a new house to organize.
Pull up a chair and join me.
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