No, that isn’t an attempt at satire. It isn’t even a twist of a quote. It is, well, exactly that-this is the first of what will (hopefully) be a glut of posts in yet another food blog to be archived somewhere in the dark recesses of cyber space.
Why a food blog? Why now? And who did I say I was, again?
Let’s begin there: I’m just your average Jane; in my late 20’s; living the American Dream, Bay Area version (waking up at some ungodly hour like 7.30am, taking the BART to the Financial District, and putting in 8 hours’ worth of cellular-level energy to justify the monthly paycheck from a foreign government office) in good ol’ San Francisco.
Two of my three biggest passions are cuisine and writing. (Travel’s the third, since you’re dying to know). I’ve dabbled a lot in the first, less than what I’d like to in the second (and a good amount of in the third). My biggest dream is to somehow combine all three, and do nothing else. But that is a luxury that I’m saving for the future (near/far) ; so, for now, I concentrate on combining the first two with the twists and turns of my life.
Both cuisine and writing are interests I have sort of had to get ‘reunited’ with; what with exiling myself in some distant country for 2 years until last December; which deprived me of the opportunity to tinker with either. And then there was all the resettling back in to do, once I returned. But now that I seem to have set some sort of comfortable pace, I have begun to scope out pathways for me to rediscover my own passions.
Coming across the mention of a famous locally based food blog by chance; something I had really enjoyed reading (so much that I forgot to go back to the original article where I came across the blog title); I recalled just how much I used to enjoy arranging recipes, photos, my own quirky comments and self assessments in collages whenever I cooked/entertained, before life had taken over. And how much I miss it. But before I could work the tears up, I realized that nothing was really stopping me from doing all that again. And even more, if I wanted.
Furthermore, that blog helped me see that I wasn’t the only one who got goosebumps of excitement about hitting the Farmer’s Market in the weekend. Or found the term of endearment ‘Mon Chou’ (My Cabbage) most romantic. So I wasn’t nuts, after all. (And believe me, that is quite the relief.)
So that was were it all began. I began planning furiously. Instead of keeping stacks and piles of notebooks and scrapbooks, I resolved, I’ll go blogger. I’ll cook more, with conviction; I’ll record it all on cyberspace. I’ll revel in more and more food blogs; reading, laughing, relating, sharing and learning with others who, like me, are in the process of (or already have done) discovering the euphoria that comes from creativity, artistry and indulgence, be they in gastronomy or prose.
To be continued.
