Who cares what you had for dinner last night?
I do. Food shapes my life in ways I don't even realize. It's not just about how it tastes, but how it makes me feel. How did it get to my table? How can I get my kids to value it as much as I do? What are the family traditions I don't want to lose? Also, how did I manage to fuck up that recipe so badly? (I ask myself that one a lot.) Now that I'm battling cancer, good nutrition has become even more important. Do I trust our current industrial food system with my life? The answer is no. In short, food is important, it's fun, and I don't want to forget to be thankful for it.
Are you really a chef or do you just play one on your blog?
According to my diploma from the Cambridge School of Culinary Arts, I’m a certified chef. However, if, by chef, you mean someone who has toiled diligently in a commercial kitchen, chopping and peeling her fingers to the bone to work her way to the upper echelons of chefdom, then no. I’ve never aspired to this. I always wanted to be a writer. Just not a starving one.
I did, however, work in the test kitchen of Cook’s Illustrated magazine cooking (and eating) ridiculous quantities of the same recipe day after day until I found myself groaning, “I can’t eat another bite of shrimp bisque,” and actually meaning it. I even worked behind the scenes of America’s Test Kitchen, where I got to make the food they show at the beginning of each episode that they ridicule before demonstrating how it’s supposed to be done.
Chef or not chef? You decide.
Are you really a writer or do you just play one on your blog?
If, by writer, you mean someone who has written multiple books, screenplays, and sonnets to much critical acclaim, then no. I’d be too busy sipping Champagne and framing my reviews to write a silly blog. But, I did write an essay in high school about how I liked to hang out in the sewer as a child that won a creative writing award at one of those assemblies that got us out of class early. It did not make me popular. Later, I worked as a writer and research editor for Boston Magazine, where I attempted to keep the magazine from being continuously mired in lawsuits (I was moderately successful).
Now, I freelance. Which might explain why I have time to write a blog.
Why should we care what you think?
Good question.
Will you add me to your blogroll?
Maybe. If you comment on my blog once in a while and tell me I'm pretty.
Can I send you free stuff?
Probably not. I don't like to have a lot of extra stuff lying around. Plus, my love cannot be bought. If I'm interested in your stuff, I'll buy it myself. I only write about the things I feel passionate about—I don't have any control over it and neither do you. However, if my love were to be bought, I would start with ice cream. A cookie plate wouldn't hurt, either (wink, wink).
When are you going to fix the banner at the top of this page so it's not hacked off like it's been for the past two years?
How about today?
What kind of a camera do you use?
Actually, nobody asks me this. I don’t know why.
Why are you using your maiden name? Did you get divorced?
Not yet. We’re shooting for 2012. The kids have already picked out their favorite parent. Thanks for asking. Reverting back to my maiden name was an attempt to keep some separation between my professional and personal life. As you can see from my blog, I’m doing a fantastic job of this.
What’s your recipe for upside-down chicken?
Okay, Husband, if you’re going to keep sending me this question. First you take a whole chicken and place it UPSIDE-DOWN in a roasting pan. Then, you cook it. As if it were right-side-up. Okay? It could happen to anyone. And, actually, it keeps the breast meat nice and tender, which I’m sure you can appreciate.
What’s your excuse for not knowing that yogurt is a dairy product?
Do you have any of them there hot peppers?
All right, that’s it. No more questions.
