The Big D
It is quite difficult to get back into blogging after being gone for so long. To quote Ani DiFranco, "I got distracted." Of course she was answering her outraged lesbian fans who were questioning her choice of a man. For me, it was all about the divorce. Although it is most surely not a topic for a food blog, the divorce hit home how much food, food preparation and eating ties into my emotions, happiness and well-being.
When I was in the depths of the divorce, in misery and barely able to function on a basic level, I could hardly eat - let alone cook. Even if I could have mustered up some surge of energy, my kitchen was packed with only a few paper plates and plastic forks left. It was not necessarily a conscious choice that I gave up cooking for this time. But I needed every ounce of energy to just survive, to make through another day, to mother my son, to move and to move on. It just became a low priority for the first time since I picked up a spatula.
There were some breaks in this fast food HELL. And let me just say, I HATE fast food. I HATE McDonalds. I HATE Taco Bell. Burger King? VOMIT! I would rather eat a shoe. Convenience is no excuse to eat that crap. But it was those very shitholes from where I consumed most of my food during the "transition." Some days though, I didn't eat at all. And believe me when I say I am not one to miss a meal. But then my friend C would call to invite me over for pasta and salad. Or my mom would take me out for MEAT. Ah, meat. Even my friend Susan, who doesn't cook and has an aluminum palate, fed me chicken and noodles.
I knew it would come back, the desire to prepare, the hunger for something delicious, the clanking of the brain wondering what pairs well with a basil tomato tart. Last week I bought two new cookbooks (up to 110!) and my Bon Appetit found me at my new home. Yes, I am coming around to the old me. Although it is less of the old me - 20 pounds lighter, wiser and ready to get my hands dirty again. Or at the least sticky with some lovely batter.....
When I was in the depths of the divorce, in misery and barely able to function on a basic level, I could hardly eat - let alone cook. Even if I could have mustered up some surge of energy, my kitchen was packed with only a few paper plates and plastic forks left. It was not necessarily a conscious choice that I gave up cooking for this time. But I needed every ounce of energy to just survive, to make through another day, to mother my son, to move and to move on. It just became a low priority for the first time since I picked up a spatula.
There were some breaks in this fast food HELL. And let me just say, I HATE fast food. I HATE McDonalds. I HATE Taco Bell. Burger King? VOMIT! I would rather eat a shoe. Convenience is no excuse to eat that crap. But it was those very shitholes from where I consumed most of my food during the "transition." Some days though, I didn't eat at all. And believe me when I say I am not one to miss a meal. But then my friend C would call to invite me over for pasta and salad. Or my mom would take me out for MEAT. Ah, meat. Even my friend Susan, who doesn't cook and has an aluminum palate, fed me chicken and noodles.
I knew it would come back, the desire to prepare, the hunger for something delicious, the clanking of the brain wondering what pairs well with a basil tomato tart. Last week I bought two new cookbooks (up to 110!) and my Bon Appetit found me at my new home. Yes, I am coming around to the old me. Although it is less of the old me - 20 pounds lighter, wiser and ready to get my hands dirty again. Or at the least sticky with some lovely batter.....
posted by Rocket Girl at 5:27 PM
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