An Introduction
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Growing up, I was always known as a "picky eater". Mayonnaise? Revolting. Radishes? Gross. Cauliflower? Not a chance. If I ever saw how something was made, that was it - there was no way you would ever be able to get me to eat that ever again. I guess I had a way of taking things to extremes.
Years later, as I'm approaching my thirties, my earlier stubbornness finally makes sense: I wasn't picky - I just had high standards! You see, my mother was a workaholic single mom. She worked ten hour days, and then came home in time to shove a few tater tots or grilled cheese sandwiches down my gullet before hustling me off to softball practice. Most of what I ate as a child was hastily prepared, processed junk coming from a box (whether that box came from the pantry or the drive through was the only surprise).
Most kids rebel by getting tattoos (which I did), or listening to punk music (I do that, too), but I found another way to push back against my conservative, suburban upbringing: as soon as I moved out, I was seemingly on a quest to eat all the foods that my convenience-obsessed family wouldn't touch. Samosas, kebab, tzatziki, stir-fry, butter chicken, sushi: these are all things that are pretty basic now, but I'd never even heard of while growing up.
Eventually, this newfound passion for the unknown led me to working in hospitality, especially in resorts far removed from the suburbs I'd grown up in. By the time I was twenty-one, I had worked in one of the best restaurants in the country and found myself living in the Rocky Mountains. It was here that I seemingly solved the second part of my earlier "picky eater" status: rather than learn how to cook myself (and be completely turned off by the final product), I fell in love with a chef.
I haven’t worked in the industry for a number of years, but I remain passionate and opinionated about food. I would be silly not to be: our lives revolve around my soon-to-be husband’s work schedule (including outlet openings, crazy functions, and our own missed holidays) and our spare time is spent going to new restaurants, farmers markets, and generally talking about food. While it can be a bit lonely when he’s on yet another ten-day stretch, I love my life. It’s not one that I’d ever recommend, and most of our friends and family really don’t understand how chaotic things can be, but food is everything to us. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
0 comments