There was a time, not very long ago at all, when I couldn't cook.
No, I really mean it. As of last summer, I was reliant on my mother and ex-roommate to cook for me, aside from the occasional, frequently disastrous foray into the realm of making rice (which frequently burned) and cooking eggs (which would generally turn out runny and burnt). I was well known in my circle of friends as a black hole of culinary talent; there were occasions on which my mere presence in the kitchen was enough to spark a miniature kitchen apocalypse. My touch caused dishes as simple as microwave oatmeal to fall to pieces, almost invariably.
So, why on Earth am I of all people starting a food blog?
Around the New Year, I had a series of epiphanies. I'd been living off campus for a year and a half, and it finally hit me how unhealthy and cost-inefficient it was to eat out or have prepackaged food all the time. I was lucky enough to live in a town with many excellent restaurants in walking distance, but I took rather too much advantage of that benefit in my first few years at school. Even when I didn't eat out or order takeout, if my roommate wasn't cooking, I'd often eat pre-made foods that cost much more than they'd have cost to make for myself-- frozen meals and pizzas, sandwiches and donuts from the convenience store, hardly a fresh vegetable in sight. The cost was ultimately much more than it was worth, and all that junk wreaked havoc on my health without my even thinking about it.
Speaking of my old roommate cooking for me -- in November, I moved out of that apartment and to my own one. While stressful, the move was good for me for a number of reasons. The reason most relevant to this blog is that, for the second time in my life (god, let's not talk about how I ate when I studied abroad), I was living without anyone to be the better cook in the household. Or to cook for me at all, for that matter. I quickly began to miss the experience of a home-cooked meal, however simple--and to realize that no one was going to make one for me, so I might as well step up and do it myself.
At Christmas, my mother gave me the best gift she could have given me--a copy of Mark Bittman's Food Matters. Part ethical treatise, part health advice, part cookbook, Bittman's book introduced me to simple rules I could follow to cook things that were better for me on a budget (simple whole foods, lots of vegetables, some fruit, smallish portions of whole grains and protein sources), as well as an approach to cooking that really clicked for me. His recipes explained the importance of the truly integral steps in them, and perhaps most importantly, left plenty of room for improvisation. For the first time, I began to view cooking not as the drudgework that my mother and aunts kept trying to get me to do when I wanted to be with my male relatives watching the game, but as an outlet for creative expression and a way to respect and care for my body. Bittman's book also got me thinking about food ethics and sustainability--I'd been pescatarian for eight years already, but I really got to thinking about overprocessing, overpackaging, and corporate responsibility in the food industry.
Throughout my last semester of college, I steeped myself in my newfound hobby. Every Saturday, I went to the farmer's market for fresh produce; I was in and out of the small, independent groceries of my college town constantly, examining new ingredients for my next improvisations. With every day, every meal, I learned.
I'm still learning. But in the past eight months, as my skill has progressed, I've wanted to share the process with people whenever possible. I've fallen in love with food blogs, skimming through Serious Eats' photograzing section every day and reading dozens, hundreds of entries from the sidelines... Perhaps, then, what drives me in this undertaking is a desire to contribute to the vibrant blogging community from which I drew (and draw) so much inspiration.
If I could learn to cook, anyone can. And if I can help anyone learn by talking about it, the same way I've been helped, I think that would be a really great thing.
So... Let's see how this goes!
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