Young & Hungry

A little corner for our musings on food and life.
 
by Katy
In the years I spent as a child in Upstate New York, I was fortunate enough to live next door to my best friend, J, a girl my same age with a light brown bob and with whom I was bonded at the hip, one half of a completely inseparable pair. We sat next to each other on the bus, played together after school, and celebrated every single weekend with a sleepover at one or another’s house…wherever J was, I wasn’t far behind, and vice versa.
    
J’s mother was decidedly less strict in her epicurean snobbery than was mine and we therefore tended to take meals at her house when we were looking for something a bit…wayward. There, we were allowed (and what we weren’t allowed, we snuck as J’s parents were heavy sleepers who also happened to turn in early) such indulgences as powdered iced tea mix, bowls of cereal mounded with table sugar, and Ben & Jerry’s. We would prepare magnificent spreads, stuffing ourselves silly with immense quantities of refined sugar and preservatives. To my young pallet, these delicacies were nothing short of glorious, a queen’s reward for a hard day’s work.
    
Fast forward twenty or so years and I still find solace in many of the treats that J’s kitchen afforded me. Vanilla Dannon sprinkled with mini chocolate chips, French fries dipped in honey, and that sweet twang of Prego spaghetti sauce are foods I turn to when I need a little nurturing. A few bites on a gray day and, somehow, I’m six years old again, sitting in a linoleum-floored kitchen, and eating a meal with a best friend Such is the power of food.

by Christine

Question to our reader(s):  How many of you are truly passionate about your own personal “daily grind”?  Or perhaps the question should be, are you even sure what it is that you want to be passionate about?  And if you do know what it is, how many of you are too afraid to ditch the security blanket and just go for it?

I’ve always debated two distinct pathways in my life.  Ok, perhaps not always, but at least since the dawn of my young adult life, which, by the way, I am STILL enjoying.  Since graduating from college, I’ve been ambling down Path 1…and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit it is indeed the life I THOUGHT I wanted. Common mistake.  Note that said path is the “jet set, savvy, high-powered business woman route.”  If you know me, you know that I am not, nor do I necessarily care to be, any of the aforementioned adjectives.

 Then there’s Path 2 which, by process of elimination, you might have guessed is the culinary route.  I can’t give you much of a resume on this one save for a conservative skill progression through the rigors of everyday experiments, dinner parties, office surprises, and the random yet nonetheless thrilling conquests realized with my counterpart.  While none of these has led to monetary windfalls, they nevertheless have been some of the most fulfilling endeavors of my life.

 I suppose there comes a point in every person’s life when he or she can no longer continue down a road (s)he knows is wrong.  I, however, am not there.   I am instead at there point where I can no longer ignore something that I know is right. 

After years of journaling, I can’t say I ever thought I’d be a blogger (isn’t that trite?  Isn’t that what every blogger writes on his or her first post?)  That was before the dawning of the blogging generation….specifically, the multiple food blogs that I now check on an obsessive basis and to which I’m sure I will refer ad nauseam.  So take from this brand-new blog what you will, be it a distraction from your “daily grind”, a new recipe, a hearty laugh at the follies and eccentricities of two very persistent girls, or simply a way share the things you are most passionate about.  After all, you know what they say about too many cooks in the kitchen…