I am convinced that I have been a foodie from the moment I was born. My mother insists that my first word was Cheerio and my grandmother tells stories of me eating shrimp from my high chair. I always preferred banging pots and pans over dolls and thought my Easy Bake Oven was as close to a treasure as I could get. Almost every one of my non-professional jobs consisted of working in or near a kitchen and, while I can't say I have been a chef, I have baked pancakes (very soggy) for an inn and muffins for coffee shops. But cooking and eating for me has been more of a personal passion. I take joy in reading new cookbooks, cutting out recipes from magazines and newspapers, and discovering a new food at the supermarket. I am not one of those experimental chefs, so I hug a new recipe as close to me as possible, planning when I can cook it as soon as possible. Those recipes are my optimism-something to look forward to no matter what.
I also, as a friend once put it, travel to eat. Whether it is 5 minutes or 5000 minutes from my home I devour restaurant reviews, creating and recreating lists of where I want to go to eat next. Trips are really an excuse to eat local foods and often involve taking the longest route possible to stop and eat as many snacks as we can. As my friend L. and I joked: when we finally saw the Grand Canyon, our awe was about the amazing french toast that we had for breakfast that day. Paris is a series of unpasturized cheeses, hot (steamy, melted) chocolates, baguettes, french macaroons, the most delicious soup in the world, unique salads and gelatos with some art thrown in. Italy: more gelato, local olives, pizza bianca from the Forno, the small local Trattoria and cantuccini. And, New York...New York is lusting after all the foods of the world in one place.