There I was, merrily taking a little break from food blogging to realign my priorities and practice my big comeback into the world of social media (hint- it involves jumping through flaming hula hoops, jazz hands, and a honey badger) when something happened that compelled me to write. But first, it compelled me to pour myself a big, stiff cocktail, you know, because that’s just the way I like them. Big and stiff. Cocktails, I mean. This one’s called the Green Gargoyle, in keeping with all the trendy green drinks of today like Green Machine, only it has the power of tequila and jalapeno rather than spirulina and kale excrement. So settle in, relax, and let me tell you a little story. Afterward you’ll want a Green Gargoyle.

During my last year of college I decided to move in with my boyfriend. It made sense, after all, since we spent practically every night together anyway. He was brooding, artistic and conflicted which totally turned me on and totally turned my friends and family off. Nobody thought it was a good idea, but I thrive on changing no’s into yeses, so I did it anyway. In the first few months, little things started happening. He locked me and my two newborn kittens out of the house one night because my best friend had come to visit and he was jealous of the time I spent with her. He followed me, popping up in strange places when he said he would be out of town. My relationships with friends became strained because they could see something I refused to and I wouldn’t listen when they told me to get out. Read more

Resolution: make more of these!

It occurs to me in this festive week of overindulgence and resolutions, that what people ultimately want is to matter. Every resolution can be traced back to that very verb, if you think about it.

This year I want to give back by volunteering my time. In other words, to matter to those less fortunate.

This year I want to exercise more. In other words, to matter to myself and my loved ones by improving my health so I can stick around longer.

This year I want to dust off the manuscript and finish the book. In other words, to matter to those who will read it.

This year I want to spend more time with my family. So I can matter to them.

This year I want to be nicer to people.

And so on and so forth, do you see where I’m going with this? Well I intend to sever the intermediary cloaking and get straight down to it, because as we all know, life is too fleeting not to cut straight to the marrow.

This year I want to matter. Read more

I’ve done it now. Gotten myself in too deep and forgotten a step- now it’s too late! Will my guests realize the cream cheese is store-bought? Should I feign illness and beg-off when it’s really that I’m ashamed of serving something that is not homemade, even if it’s only a condiment?

A few days ago I read this article and it made me think long and hard about my approach to holiday cooking.

In life I’m spontaneous and a little loco.

In the kitchen, I’m type AAAAAA.

Sure, I can cook off the cuff, often tossing three random ingredients together to make an accidental masterpiece (or failure), but for the most part I plan. I am a firm believer in mise en place. I study. I approach food anthropologically and draft heat maps based on predilections for certain spices. I generally don’t cook from recipes, so planning and research are essential in order to understand the fundamentals and science behind what makes things work.

I realize this makes me part of the 1% (please don’t occupy my kitchen though- I’ll serve you excellent wine if you just stay the eff in the living room), but you know what? I’m ok with that when it comes to cooking. It’s my craft. Everyone should be allowed to be a geek about something, and food is my chosen medium. You know what you can call me without me going all Pulp Fiction on your ass like many of my peers? A Foodie. Read more