Life's Exilir

Coffee. That's right.

There are days when I don't know what I would do without coffee. Today being one of them. I don't think the world would function without coffee. It gets us through late nights and hungover mornings. It creates opportunities for social get-togethers. It warms us on a winter day, or cools us in the hot summer. Besides water (and maybe, wine) we need coffee to survive.

The smell of coffee is one of my most favorite smells in the world. It smells like a crisp, fall morning and feels like a warm sweater, hugging you tight. Even in the midst of summer, the smell of coffee lets me escape the heat for just a moment, as I picture myself relaxing by a cozy fire.

Coffee also reminds me of Saturday mornings as a kid. Every Saturday morning my dad took my sister and I to the dump and then to Dunkin' Donuts. I would get not one, but TWO donuts and chocolate milk (this would explain my chubby belly until 8th grade). I obviously didn't drink coffee yet, but I still remember the smell of my Dad's black coffee and thinking he looked so cool and adult-like. I couldn't wait until the day when I was "grown up enough" to drink coffee.

I had to ease my way into regular coffee consumption. It started when I was in about 7th or 8th grade. First it was the Coffee Coolatta's, then the vanilla lattes at Starbucks, neither of which are real coffee. I remember strutting around with my Starbucks iced vanilla latte, thinking I was so sophisticated, like a celebrity walking with shopping bags and coffee in hand.

And then college started, and I learned the real value of coffee. Survival. This is when I became a real coffee-drinker. Just coffee with a little skim milk. No frills, no sugar.

Since then, I usually have a cup a day, regardless of whether I really need it. There are many days when I feel perfectly awake and alert, but I am convinced that I still need coffee (I think that means I am addicted?...) But it's not just the caffeine jolt that I look forward to everyday, it's the memories and the brief sense of comfort I feel in the first couple of sips.

Seduced by Food

I may have discovered the next best thing for foodies. It's like a great romance movie, only about food. Thanks to my friend Jac who sent me the think to a NPR article that proposes the future of food magazines.

Photographer William Hereford combines written recipes with live video footage, all set to sexy French music. This is different than cooking shows on the Food Network. This concept is much more artful, organic, and sensual. There are no performances from bubbly celebrities. This is solely about showcasing the beauty of the food and the tenderness that goes into cooking good food. So the idea is similar to a food magazine in that it explains the recipe step-by-step with salivating images, but here you actually get to witness the transformation of a meal from simple ingredients on a page to a beautiful, finished product.

As I watched this short clip, I felt as if I were being serenaded by a sexy French man on the streets of Paris with a glass of wine in hand--and that's how a good meal should be: its flavors, smells, and tastes should seduce you into an all-encompassing experience. Eating a good meal isn't just about consuming fuel, it's about feeling the entire experience; feeling the love and care and the story behind the meal.

I do wonder how helpful these videos will actually be when cooking in the kitchen. It doesn't seem very practical to stop and rewind, stop and rewind, every time you need to review something. I could also see myself getting so distracted by the beauty of it all, that I would start fantasizing about my French man and the Eiffel Tower and completely forget what I'm supposed to cook.

Who knows if these virtual food recipes will actually catch on, but I am sold. I'd even try to create my own video food recipes as a future blog project. Too bad I possess zero camera skills and lack that seductive, finesse. I can be a little bit frantic when I'm cooking in the kitchen. I'll just have to find me some sexy French music to mask my clumsiness.

Check out the video on this link and see what you think!

Food In Love

Bookworm

Just finished watching the Swedish movie version of "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo". More like, just finished sleeping through the Swedish movie version of "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo." Okay, the movie wasn't that bad, and I'm still feeling very fatigued, but I was not impressed. It dragged on for about 2 and a half hours. The English voiceovers were quite flat and lifeless, so it was difficult to feel any emotion from the characters. In fact, the actors themselves did not do the characters justice, regardless of the sloppy subtitles. For a book that kept me on my toes until the very end, the movie certainly did not.

I've seen several other movies-based-on-books this summer, that did not live up to the book's greatness. My Sister's Keeper and The Lovely Bones being two of them. It is definitely not easy to create a good movie from a book. Readers often create their own visions of what characters and settings look like, and can be quite disappointed when the real life actors don't match up to his or her vision (I was quite disillusioned with the not-so-attractive Blomkvist in tonight's movie). Books can also hold so many intricate details, which can be nearly impossible to fit into a 2 hour movie. One of the faults of this movie is that it tried to squeeze in ALL the details of the book, of which there are MANY, therefore making it unbearably long.

Personally, I would much prefer reading the book to seeing the movie. There is something so much more original, imaginative, and involved in reading the text. But there are quite a few movies-based-on-books that I also love...

-Harry Potter--I mean, come on, who doesn't love the Harry Potter movies?

-Breakfast at Tiffany's--I loved Truman Capote's novella, and the movie version is quite different. But the movie is just so charming; and the clothes and Audrey Hepburn...it's just a recipe for love.

-To Kill a Mockingbird--Classic book, classic movie.

-Twilight--Not that I think these movies are quality movies by any means, but the books are SO poorly written, that it's not hard to make a movie version better than the book. And who doesn't love to drool over Jacob (Taylor Lautner)?

-Eat Pray Love--Well I obviously haven't seen this one yet, since it has yet to come out in theaters. But I am anxiously awaiting its debut. Julia Roberts+Gelato+Italy=High Hopes.

See you at the movies!

Pooped.

Who knew that being jobless and doing nothing could be so exhausting? The events of the past few days have left me completely pooped. My body is thirsting for sleep, exercise, and a healthy, home-cooked meal.

Over the weekend, one of my best friends from home graciously invited about 20 of our high school friends to her Cape house. One would expect it to be a relaxing weekend: nothing to do but hang out and go to the beach with good friends. But the debauchery of our reunion left me feeling more dehydrated and tired than I have since senior week of college. Never have I consumed so many varieties of chips in such a short amount of time (we seriously bought about 20 bags of chips). On top of that it was donuts for breakfast, and hotdogs, burgers, and mac and cheese for dinner. Add in excessive amounts of beer to soak up all that processed food, and you've got yourself one healthful weekend...Things really haven't changed much since high school, except that now we are all actually legal. I think it is safe to say that everyone had a blast and will have many memories to laugh at from this weekend.

Back to reality today, and I still was not able to get into a normal sleeping or eating pattern. No, today it was off to New York for an interview for yet ANOTHER internship (why can't I just get a REAL job interview already?!). So I was up early to take the train into the city, which was delayed and took over 4 hours, only to get back on the train about 3 hours later to take the same train back home. Besides sitting on my in-much-need-of-a-workout-butt for over 8 hours today, my meals had to be consumed on the road (lunch brought from home, and dinner purchased at Pret-a-manger). Although I am quite a fan of Pret's to-go salads, I was really looking forward to a healthful, homemade meal after my weekend of sodium-chemical-toxic overload.

So here I am after 4 days of doing nothing but sitting on trains, lying on a beach, and excessive eating/drinking. I am so wiped out that I couldn't come up with anything else to write about besides complain about how badly I am in need of sleep, good food, and a good sweat. Tomorrow I fully intend to recover from my weekend of doing nothing by doing, well...nothing.

Happy Daze

Sorry for my lack of post recently, loyal blog-followers. I went to the Cape this weekend with a bunch of friends from home, which called for some major R&R and a whole lot of doing nothing yesterday to recover.

Girl Power!

Having just watched the new movie The Runaways, I am feeling rather inspired. Inspired to dye my hair black, cut it into a choppy mullet, spray paint and rip up my own t-shirts just like Joan Jett (or Kristen Stewart). There is something about that angsty teenage rebel queen that has always seemed so cool to me. Probably because rocker chicks à la Kristen Stewart or Taylor Momsen from Gossip Girl, are so far from anything I will ever be. The closest I've ever become to being a rockstar has been while playing Rockband.

Junior year in college, my friends and I had Rockband in our apartment. It was the world's biggest distraction and reason for procrastination. Somedays I would come home from class and find my roommate sitting alone on the couch, staring at the TV screen, strumming on the guitar like a robot. We spent many Friday nights pumping ourselves up to party by rocking out like gamer nerds. I was always on vocals. Mic in hand, I felt overcome with the confidence of a tough, rock-and-roll chick. There was definitely something empowering in belting "Bad Reputation" until my voice became raspy and hoarse.

What was so empowering and liberating in these brief moments of rockstar-dom was that it was such a change from my everyday self. For anyone that knows me, I am pretty tightly wound, almost always follow the rules, and definitely could not pull off a choppy mullet. So these rocker chicks have always been so cool to me, because their image and persona are something I could never pull of, or are just too afraid to try.

I've always admired women who don't seem to care about societal norms of femininity and masculinity. Women who are willing to break through the mold, whether it be in music, fashion, literature, etc. (Coco Chanel, Jane Austen, Britney Spears...haha just kidding, but not really). Although I don't consider myself a trendsetter or mold-breaker, those few moments manning the mic on Rockband allowed me to feel the sense of power and freedom that female innovators, such as Joan Jett, must have felt. Who knew a video game could be so empowering? Rock on!

Grown Up Little Girl

One of my favorite days of the month is when the new issue of Bon Appetit arrives in the mail. As soon as I spot it, a feeling of eagerness takes over, and I cannot wait to sit down and start combing through all the new recipes and delectable pictures. My Bon Appetit frenzy is similar to the excitement I used to feel as a child when the new American Girl catalogue arrived. I remember snatching the catalogue before my younger sister could get her hands on it, running upstairs, and circling every new outfit and accessory I wanted for my birthday or Christmas. I fantasized about my dolls, their new outfits, and how happy we would all be together. I created little play scenes in my head before my birthday or Christmas even arrived.

My first American Girl doll was Samantha. Santa brought her when I was in kindergarten. I begged and BEGGED for Samantha months before Christmas was even in the picture. I cut out all of the Samantha pictures from the catalogue and stored them in a box under my bed labeled “Samantha Parkington’s Box”; along with pictures of outfits and play scenes I imagined we would have together. (This box is actually still decaying in our attic, probably storing old winter clothes).
Samantha finally arrived, only to be followed by several other American Girl dolls that my sister and I would play with together. While our dolls brought many fun times and cherished memories, I still most vividly remember the utter excitement and anticipation I felt waiting for Samantha’s arrival.
This pure, innocent longing is similar to the anxiousness I feel when imagining Bon Appetit’s new recipes. I study every detail. The ingredients, the process, serving suggestions. I especially love the illustration demos in the back of the magazine. I picture myself chopping the ingredients, putting them together, and what it must smell like. The pictures make my mouth salivate and my stomach grumble with desire. I rip out all the pages of recipes that I hope to try and keep them in a folder that is now falling apart, similar to my “Samantha Parkington’s Box”. I have probably only made a quarter of the recipes that I’ve torn from Bon Appetit, but I hold onto all of them with the hope that some day I will try them all (also similar to how I wished I could own the entire American Girl franchise as a child). My tastes and interests may have matured over the years, but food still makes me bubble with excitement like a 5 year-old girl.

A few of the recipes from the August issue that I hope to make are:
-Grilled Chicken and Plantains, Jamaican-Style
-Grilled Salmon with Quick Blueberry Pan Sauce-Shrimp, Mango, and Avocado Salad with Sweet Chili-Ginger Vinaigrette

And for dessert…
White Chocolate-Cherry Mousse Pie (wish I had a piece of this sitting in front of me RIGHT NOW!)
Chocolate-Dipped Ice Cream Sandwiches

Hopefully I will actually try one of these recipes (rather than storing them in my Bon Appetit folder) and report back soon!

I Dream of Genie. And Many other Weird Things.

My mom and I just got back from seeing the new movie Inception. I’ve been waiting to see this movie for a while, not so much because I was interested in the content, but because I have been a diehard Leonardo DiCaprio fan since Growing Pains. Besides seeing the dramatic commercials, I really had no idea what this movie was about before going in. And I’m not so sure I even know what it is about now. The whole idea of sharing dreams and dreams within a dream (within a dream, within a dream), was very cool and different, but also very hard to keep up with. At times I found that I was trying so hard to keep track of all the dream layers, that I missed whatever was going on at that moment. It was, however, quite entertaining, with its ever changing scenery, intense music, and of course, Leo. Although confusing and mind-boggling at times, I guess that’s what makes a good movie: one that leaves you still thinking about it afterwards. The idea of planting an idea in someone’s head through a dream is truly original and creative, and left me wondering if I’ve ever been subconsciously led to believe something because of a dream?
I always have quite vivid dreams that I remember the next day. Sometimes these dreams are so bizarre that I find myself thinking about them hours later. My most recent weird dream was from sometime last week. I dreamt that my pet dog Mack somehow obtained a gun and was trying to shoot me. My only protection was a paperback book that I used as a shield. Eventually, my mother seized the dog and took his gun. Then my whole family stood together and cried as we watched Mack being taken away to jail for bad animals. (Mack and I have a quite hostile relationship, but I never thought he would try to shoot me if given the chance!)
My mother also has very strange dreams—usually something terrible happens to me or one of my siblings. (She tends to worry about us…a lot). One of her weirdest dreams by war was when she was pregnant with me. She dreamt that I was growing in a garden, rather than in her womb, with Right-to-Life bumper stickers pasted around the fence. Instead of growing into a normal infant, I grew into a full-grown man. She cried and cried that she wanted a baby, not a grown man, for a child. I’m not even going to try to analyze where this one came from…
So maybe the weird dream trend is genetic in my family. Or maybe my mom and I are linked in a shared dream universe à la Inception!! Mwaahh-ha-ha! Who knows, but it is interesting to think about, or at least get a good laugh out of our kooky dreams.
Anyone else have any strange dreams you’d care to share or analyze? Feel free to explore here…

I Heart NY...Pizza

This past weekend, my boyfriend Keenan and I spent the day in Manhattan. My parents and I drove down to NY to vist my grandmother, so I took the train into the city to meet up with him. It was such a great summer afternoon in New York. We had lunch at the Oyster Bar in Grand Central, which was good, but way overpriced. Then we kept cool at The Frick Collection, which we both loved. The beautiful building itself, with its indoor garden and pool, stands in such contrast to the harsher structures of the city. We crossed 5^th and relaxed in the park for a while. Our demanding afternoon naturally required that we replenish ourselves with some frozen yogurt, which we picked up at Butterfield’s. Keenan unknowingly ordered a medium, which turned out to be a massive serving, and melted to a soup before he could even finish it. More wandering and strolling brought us to Murray Hill to check out his new apartment building. After that, it was, of course, time to eat again!

Normally, Keenan leaves the restaurant-picking up to me. During my internship in New York City last summer, my biggest hobby became pouring through restaurant reviews and menus and picking the spot for our weekend dinner out. Well this time Keenan did the picking, and boy, did he choose right…Pizza!

We went to this hole in the wall place called Pizza 33 on the corner of (you guessed it!) 33^rd and 3^rd. With only a few tables in the joint, we actually had to stand whilst pizza-eating, as the hot mozzarella dripped down our chins. Upon Keenan’s recommendation we both ordered 2 slices of margherita pizza. Little did I know that a slice was actually bigger than the size of my head; but this was not a problem, as I always have an appetite for good pizza. And this was not just good pizza…it was fantastic! The crust was so perfectly thin without being burnt, yet was still doughy and chewy. The sweet tomato sauce was in perfect balance with the buttery mozzarella. Under the mozzarella rounds were fresh basil leaves, which added another level of freshness and lightness to a surprisingly gourmet-tasting pizza from your corner pizza stop. Keenan was such a fan, he even went back for 2 more slices. I easily could have kept pace with him (it was so light—unlike most greasy, heavy pizza—it almost felt healthy!), but I restrained myself for fear of looking like a total glutton.

Come to think of it, most of my best pizza experiences have been with Keenan. On my first night in NYC last summer, he took me to Lombardi’s in Nolita for dinner. Also margherita style, and memorably delicious. And then there were the many late nights at BC of Pino’s Pizza, after stumbling across the street from Mary Ann’s. The later it was, the better the pizza tasted.

There was also the time when I attempted to show Keenan a good pizza. I insisted that he try Ben’s Pizza in the Village. Ben’s was down the block from my NYU freshman dorm, and it was where everyone went whose fakes couldn’t get them into a bar. I always remember thinking Ben’s had the best pizza I ever had. Apparently that was before I tasted real pizza. Upon revisiting, we were both quite disappointed; and I was quite ashamed, having talked the place up so much, and being the self-proclaimed food-saveur.

I may know how to cook, but Keenan sure knows a thing or two about pizza. Maybe it’s because he’s a guy, or because he’s from New York. Whatever it is that bestows Keenan his pizza-prowess, I have learned never to underestimate the beauty of real New York pizza.

Reading Rainbow

One of my favorite things about summer is having all the time in the world to read whatever you want. At school, I never had time to read books for pleasure. I was always reading something for an English or Sociology class, or highlighting article upon article for my thesis. Whenever I had some free time, the last thing I felt like doing was opening another book. So, summers in between school became a mad reading frenzy, when I would try to catch up on all the books I heard about throughout the year, or old classics I have yet to enjoy.

Well now with no looming return to school and no job, I really do have all the time in the world to read. Besides writing this blog, cooking, interning a few days a week, and job-searching, I have no real responsibilities or places to be besides spending my bounty of spare time delving into book after book. For someone who does not like to nap, I cannot think of a better way to escape hours a day into a fictitious, dreamland. I love the feeling of being so engrossed in a story that I am one with the pages, the words, and cannot be set free until I finish the entire book (or until I have to take a bathroom break). Laughter, goosebumps, disgust, despair. It is amazing how simple words can be so powerful, so as to strike up physical and emotional reactions within us. The way friends can share such heated and passionate discussions about beloved, or hated, characters in a story, it is as if we know them personally. Yes, people also share such fervent conversations about fictional characters from TV shows and movies; but it is so much more miraculous and magical when a good book can bring us to do so. Books don't need special effects, musical scores, or celebrities to make you feel and react. Just words. Words so thoughtfully and uniquely strung together to take us on a journey to dreamland.

Here is a list of the books I've read so far this summer, and highly recommend...

-The Help by Kathryn Stockett--hot new book set in Jackson, Missippi in the 1960s. Great style, moving material, funny too.

-Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert--read this en route to Italy, and it could not have been more timely for my European travels. Can't wait to see the movie!

-Three Cups of Tea by David Oliver Relin and Greg Mortensen--unbelievable story. Just read it.

-Sarah's Key by Tatiana de Rosnay--another new bestseller. Wasn't very impressed with the quality of writing, but very sad story and an easy read. Recommend for anyone interested in WWII or the Holocaust.

-The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold--I sort of missed the wave of when this book was really popular, but I recently watched the movie and decided I should read it. The book is MUCH better than the movie. Creepy story, well-written, fast-paced.

-The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson--everyone is reading this book right now, and YOU SHOULD TOO! Great thriller, quite graphic, good summer read. Could not put this down.

-Fifth Avenue, 5 A.M. by Sam Wasson--brand new book about the making of Breakfast at Tiffany's; focusing on Truman Capote, the writers/director/etc, and my favorite, Audrey Hepburn. A sweet and pleasurable look behind the scenes if you're a fan.

And I'm about to crack open The Girl Who Played with Fire, the second book in Larsson's trilogy. Hopefully I'll be able to put it down and get some sleep tonight!

Camp Heavyweights

My love of food and eating began at an early age. Our photo albums depict several pictures of me with my face inside the bowl, licking the brownie batter. In home videos, my mom reminds me that Halloween candy is not to be eaten all in one night. There are also pictures of me taking out every single can and box in the pantry and lying them on the floor. I guess that was my idea of fun back then.

Today I was reminded of my atypical preoccupation with food as a kid. I attended a soccer clinic with the Boston Breakers as part of my new internship. Luckily I did not have to participate in the clinic itself, but one could easily have been deceived, as my shirt was drenched through with sweat. Standing out in middle of the field with no shade, I was baking as sweat dripped out of every gland on my body. On the brink of heat exhaustion, I wondered how in the world these little kids were actually running around and playing soccer in the heat. How can this possibly be fun for them? And then I remembered...it is NOT fun. At least it was not for me when I was a kid.

I used to HATE going to summer camps, especially those that involved sports. My mom had to actually bribe my sister and I with little gag gifts to stick out the 3 hours a day at camp. I always hated running around, getting sweaty, being dirty. I was never athletic or competitive, so I never fared well in tag, kickball, or capture the flag. Besides going home at the end of the day, my favorite part of camp were the popsicles at snack break. As a kid, my idea of summer fun was going to Dairy Queen for Blizzards, or baking cookies in the comfort of AC. I was not an active, outdoorsy kid.

My love of food and the indoors definitely showed in my youth. I had quite a large belly and beefy cheeks. My short bobbed haircut and love for flashy Limited Too clothes did not do well to hide my plump figure. But it never once crossed my mind that maybe I should've sweat out those Blizzards on the soccer field. I was chubby and happy. I didn't care if all the cool kids were playing soccer, I liked to eat.

Well not much has changed. I still look forward to DQ Blizzards like an 8 year old, and I would still much rather read a book inside than sweat through my shorts on the soccer field. Thankfully, I now exercise regularly and shed the Santa belly and cheeks through puberty. But in my heart, I am still the same fat kid. Just waiting to eat my next meal or dying to eat all the Halloween candy.

Daily Bread

If I was ever stranded on a deserted island, the 3 foods I would need to survive are bread, cheese, chocolate. A day does not go by when I don't consume at least a small amount of each of these dietary essentials. While the cheese and chocolate may not be as vital to others as they are to me, I think it is safe to say that bread is a staple in everyone's diet. It is hearty and filling. Warm and comforting. Practical too: use it to sop up all the leftover sauce in a dish, or create a delicious sandwich.

Tonight my mom and I went to Paparazzi's for dinner. Although it is a chain, they have some of my favorite bread. The rosemary focaccia with its salty, golden crust always leaves me wanting more. Paparazzi's bread is such a hit in my house that we will even call ahead to order a whole loaf, which we will then feast on throughout the week at home.

Bread is so loved in our house that my mom and brother even invented "bread parties". The "party" begins when my mom heats up the focaccia loaf in the oven. The smell warms the whole kitchen. We all gather around the island, cutting off chunks of bread and dipping them into olive oil. Our bread parties are often so indulgent that half the loaf (or more) is usually gone, and appetites have been somewhat spoiled for dinner.

My friends and I have a similar obsession with bread whenever we go out to eat. Not Your Average Joe's is a big one for us. We usually go through 2-3 bread baskets before the food even arrives. Bertucci's is another. Whenever we order takeout, we always ask for extra rolls. As cheap college kids, you gotta mooch the free food whenever you can. Especially when that free food is bread.

My friend and I also shared some divine bread on our trip through Europe. At the Mercato Centrale in Florence we picked up just a few things (haha, yea right) to

have a picnic for lunch. Our picnic turned into more of a feast with grapes, apples, brie, mozzarella, a huge chunk of salty focaccia and a whole loaf of nutty, multigrain bread. We tried every possible combination of food: focaccia with brie and grapes, multigrain with mozzarella and apple, etc. But no matter how we paired it, the breads were so good that we didn't need anything to jazz them up.

Bread is the universal constant. It is exists in various forms in all cultures and cuisines. It fills us up. It sustains us. It comforts us. Bread is so good, that a band even named itself after it. Perhaps we can create world peace by uniting everyone in our shared love of bread. Bread makes the world go round.

Words, Words, Words

It has been over a week now since I started my blog, and so far, so good! I've gotten such great feedback from friends and family, so thank you all for your support! It is encouraging to know that people actually enjoy my writing, since that is why I started this blog in the first place: not only to write about food, but also to get in the habit of writing everyday, with the hope that others will get something out of it too.

One of the reasons I was so apprehensive to start a blog was that I worried I wouldn't be able to find something interesting to write about everyday. Life at home in Westboro is far from exciting or eventful; but I've realized that you don't necessarily need something to happen in order to write. Usually it's the funny, little moments or random thoughts I have that will inspire me to write something here. Most days, I start with an idea of what I want to write about, but that usually completely changes depending on who I see, what I eat, the weather, who knows.

For me, writing this blog has also been more than just finding a cool topic to go on about; it has also been about developing a style and making certain word choices to portray a story to everyone else. Discovering all the different words I can use to describe Italian gelato, and make you feel as if you are tasting it too. It is somewhat like a game or a puzzle: using different words, switching up sentence structure, creating a nice rhythm and flow.

What is so unique about writing a blog is that you somehow have to create your own authentic voice, without actually thinking about it. You want to develop a truthful personality behind your writing; but if you pay too much attention to this, you also risk creating a caricature of yourself. As we questioned in many of Sociology courses, however, does a "true self" even exist? Perhaps we develop several different "selves", which assume in various social situations. So maybe in addition to having "selves" in social interactions, we also develop a "writing self". If so, I'm not sure that I could describe my "writing self" yet; but rather it is something that will grow and evolve the more I WRITE, WRITE, WRITE!

Kid at Heart

Last night my friend and I went to see Toy Story 3. I had heard rave reviews from several different people, so my expectations were pretty high. The movie great, if not better, than everyone else said it was! It was funny, action-packed, and emotional all at the same time. I'm not one to laugh out loud during a movie, but I had a good, hearty laugh several times throughout the movie. (One of my favorite lines was when Woody gets taken to Bonnie's house. He asks the other toys where he is, and the stegosaurus figurine responds, "We're either at a cafe in Paris, or a coffee shop in New Jersey." Don't ask me why, but I found this line hilarious). I think it was this kind of cute, simple humor that I enjoyed so much in Toy Story 3. It's been a while since I had a good laugh about something childish and innocent.

Tonight I had another chance to relive some funny and childish memories. Today is my good friend's birthday, so a couple of my girlfriends from home drove into Boston to meet up with the birthday girl and her friends for dinner. We went to The Beehive in the South End. It was a very cool place. Nice lighting and decor, with an almost a "speakeasy" vibe as one of my friends later described it. The drinks and food were yummy. The highlight being a grilled flatbread pizza, which was shared as an appetizer. But I always find at these types of gatherings--old friends reuniting, old friends meeting new friends--that the food is more of an afterthought. The details of the actual food take a backseat to the laughter and stories shared. There is nothing more filling than laughing and reminiscing about silly memories from our youth.

Amidst the stress of job searching and starting my new internship tomorrow, Toy Story 3 and tonight's dinner could not have come at a better time. Sometimes all it takes is a trip down memory lane and a good laugh to realize life ain't so bad after all.

Boot Camp

The job hunt continues. My newest job-searching strategy has been to buy out the magazine selection at the local bookstore and email everyone on the masthead of each magazine. I've sent out too many emails to count or remember. In my emailing frenzy, I even stupidly sent the wrong cover letter to someone at a completely different magazine. Oops! Guess I won't be hearing back from them... BUT, my endless feed of emails has started to somewhat pay off! I've received a couple of encouraging emails saying that while there are no positions available now, they would be happy to keep my resume on file if something does open up. Whoopee! I've also spoken to a couple people on the phone about their career paths and received some insightful advice. So far, two people have encouraged me to pursue some sort of class or job that relates to food. If you really want to get into food writing, you need something in your background that shows that passion and that edge. Everyone wants to be a food writer or has a food blogthese days, so you need something to make you shine against the competition. Who knew writing about food could be so cutthroat! Luckily, I've already got a bit of that "edge" in my pocket.

Two summers ago, I attended Culinary Boot Camp at the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park, NY. And Boot Camp, it certainly was! The first day we were scheduled to arrive at 6 or 7 in the morning (I was in too much of a sleepy haze to remember). I show up in this freezing cold, cellar-like room, and I am the youngest person by at least 15 years. (The minimum age requirement is 21, but I was only 20 at the time and managed to sneak by that!) Everyone sleepily and anxiously kept to themselves. Eventually we received our chef garb and were instructed to change. Feeling even more out of place, as my 5'2" frame drowned in my checked chef's pants and white coat, we were introduced to each other through a series of icebreaker-type games. People came from all different places, backgrounds, and levels of culinary training, but we were all united by our love of food.

Within the larger group of 15 people, we were then broken down into 5 teams of 3. Everyday, each team received a different menu, which we were to recreate in the kitchen and then present to the entire group. And then, of course, EAT. These menus incorporated various cooking techniques that we learned early in the morning's demonstration: knife cuts, sautée, poach, braise, deep-fry, etc.

I remember one morning each student had to peel and cut what seemed to be an insane amount of apples, oranges, and grapefruit. I could not for the life of me do it! The juice drenched my hands, and I could not get a steady hold on the orange in order to cut out the flesh from between the two membranes. I was so frustrated and annoyed, I thought I was going to cry.

I also remember having to julienne like 20 carrots (well it felt like 20). By the end, my neck was getting tight and my hands started to cramp. Our instructor, a stout, feisty, little chef, came over to me and said my julienne was too sloppy and not even, to keep on going. ARGH!! This cooking was tough stuff!

I did have a few highlights of the week though: deep-fried flounder (although I think it's hard to mess up deep-fried anything) and roasted pheasant. Never before had I roasted a full bird of any sorts, let alone a pheasant. With my team, we decided to roast the pheasant with white wine, tomatoes, garlic, and bacon. It was a success! Our fiery instructor even complimented me on its juiciness!

Each night of the Boot Camp, we also dined at one of the restaurants on the CIA campus. But that deserves a whole other blog post of its own.

So one benefit of this endless job hunt has been reliving these tiring, but eye-opening and delicious memories of Culinary Boot Camp. Now I'll just have to convince my parents that taking another culinary class is essential to my future as a food writer...

Well Worth the Weight

Have you ever felt like all you do on vacation is eat? First you indulge in a big breakfast, then waste away a few hours strolling or sightseeing until lunch. After lunch, you occupy the afternoon with a fun activity, or a trip to the beach. All that hard work naturally requires that you hold yourself over until dinner by sampling a unique, local treat or an ice cream cone. Then dinnertime finally arrives, and it becomes a feast fit for kings. Bottles of wine, several shared appetizers, the main course, and of course, dessert. "Hey, I'm on vacation! I deserve this!" you tell yourself, as you feel your pants tightening with each bite of chocolate cake. You retreat to your hotel bed, pass out in a food coma, wake up the next morning, only to do it all over again.

Well that's pretty much how my family's weekend went in Sandwich, MA. With the on-and-off rain and underwhelming "Sandwichfest" (a fair with local vendors, who didn't actually vend much), the highlight of our weekend was waiting for the next meal. But luckily, the food made up for the lack in Sandwich's excitement.

Last night's dinner at the Dan'l Webster Inn, the hotel where we stayed, being the major highlight. I first had a warm goat cheese and roasted beet salad atop a bed of mixed greens with a maple vinaigrette. Perfection! The combination of soft, tangy goat cheese and hearty beets is one of my favorites. And the maple vinaigrette gave it a very homey feel, as if I were enjoying this salad on a small farm in Vermont.

This salad could have been hard to beat, but my main course was definitely a winner. I had one of the chef's daily specials, which was caramelized sea scallops with a blueberry and mandarin orzo salad, topped with a starfruit crème fraîche and local blueberry honey. I absolutely LOVE seafood and fruit together. It feels so light and fresh--perfect in yesterday's humidity. The starfruit was something new for me, but I enjoyed it. They have a sweet but mild taste. The crème fraîche and blueberry honey added a delicious subtlety to the buttery scallops and orzo. Mmhmm!

But let's be serious, it was ALL about the dessert. Well, it is ALWAYS about the dessert. At least it is for me. I devoured, literally DEVOURED, a white chocolate macadamia nut blondie, topped with vanilla ice cream, toasted coconut, and warm butterscotch sauce. My mouth is salivating just thinking about how unbelievable it was. All the flavors melded together in such a perfect medley of warm, soft, gooey goodness, I was in heaven. I would gladly sit and do nothing all day if I were to be rewarded with last night's dinner. Actually, I would sit and be bored all day just for last night's dessert. It was THAT good.

Back at home, pants feeling a little snug, and facing the sad reality that there actually ARE calories in those last few bites of dessert (no matter what you tell yourself on vacation, all those indulgences DO actually count). Sigh. No more blondies and ice cream for me this week. But it's the waiting for something really special that makes vacation food, or dessert, so darn good!

Rain, Rain Go Away

This morning has been off to a lovely start. My family is staying at a historic, little inn in Sandwich on the Cape for the weekend. My brother and sister have been at a nearby summer camp, and this is the change-over weekend between camp sessions, so my parents and I came down to the Cape to visit for the weekend. The inn is very charming: beautiful gardens, old-fashioned embroidered quilts, dark wood and old paintings line the hallways.

The weather, however, has not been so pleasing. Early this morning, my dad and I went for a run outside. You would think a 22-year old daughter would be able to outrun her father (today is his birthday, actually!), but he had me panting, quite literally, in his dust. I run on a regular basis, so I was a little embarrassed that I struggled so much to keep up. I will blame some of my lethargy on the immense humidity. The air was so thick with moisture, it felt like I was inhaling molasses. Once we finally made it back to the inn, the sweat dripped out of my pores for a solid half hour. Clothes drenched and still out of breath, I asked my dad, "So, do you feel any older yet?" And he replied, "Well if I can still outrun you, I guess I don't feel that old." Touché.

After a cold shower and a much-deserved breakfast of scrambled eggs, turkey sausage, and toast, my brother, sister, and I set out to explore Sandwich. Our adventure came to a disappointing and quick halt. About 5 minutes from the hotel, the heavens opened and the rain came POURING down. We tried to seek refuge by hopping from store to store, but still managed to get absolutely soaked. So now we are back in the inn, waiting for the rain to pass and the sun to peek out. The little cafés and shops that we visited briefly had a similar charm to our inn: handmade crafts, local ingredients, local artists. Hopefully the weather improves soon, so that we can venture out into this cute town. Otherwise, we might just have to go out regardless and risk looking as disheveled and sodden as I did after my defeated run.

Mary, Mary Quite Contrary

How does your garden grow? Not with silver bells and cockle shells, I assume. But maybe I can use a few tips from Mary, as my newest project for the summer is my own herb garden.

I've always envied Ina Garten on the Barefoot Contessa as she casually struts through her vast garden, plucking fresh herbs and flowers. Until now, my "herb garden" has consisted of dried spices in the pantry and whatever "fresh" herbs I

can find at the supermarket. Well, envy no more! Ina, you've met your new match!

Today on a whim, my mom and I took a trip to

the nursery in the next town. I told the sweet woman at the counter

that I've always wanted to start an herb garden, but don't know the first thing about gardening. Lucky me, herbs are actually very low maintenance and thrive in the dry, heat of the summer (they must be loving this heat wave!). So, I bought a little trough, soil, and 5 different herbs: basil, rosemary, thyme, parsley, and mint. My mom and I packed up the car, and I was on the way to my own herb garden!

Herbs newly planted and installed on our deck, I was anxious to put my Ina Garden (hehe) to the test! My dad already planned to grill some chicken for dinner, so I figured I would incorporate some herbs into light, summery side dishes.

First, I made a tomato, red onion salad with basil and mozzarella. For the dressing, I just whisked together some red wine vinegar, olive oil, dijon mustard, and salt & pepper.

Et voilà! The perfect summer salad! The combination of tomato, basil, and mozzarella is a favorite in my house, but the red onion and red wine vinegar added a tart, sweet kick to a beloved classic.

Next, I made a couscous with the parsley and fresh lemon juice. Very simple and subtle, but I love the way parsley adds a light freshness and color to an otherwise plain dish.

In the end, it was a delicious and satisfying meal, made all the more tasty by my herbs à la Ina.

Can't wait to incorporate the other herbs in another dish. Or maybe my next creation will be a fresh, mint mojito. Mmm...

We All Scream for Ice Cream

It's only the 2nd day of my blog experiment, and I've already managed to put off writing my next post until 10PM. Not a great start, but better late than never!

Since this morning I waited for something funny, different, or awkward to happen that would be blog-worthy. Well being unemployed and home alone while my siblings are away at summer camp does not make for an exciting or unique day. How am I going to keep up this blog if I'm not even stimulated by anything in my own daily life? The only thing I've been able to experience or feel the past few days is this oppressive heat! Perspiration drips down the back of my shirt the second I step outside, a slimy film of sweat coats my entire body, and my hair frizzes into annoying curly-q's. Ahh!!

But the one thing that could possibly make this heat worth it is the sweet relief of...ICE CREAM! Well, I eat ice cream regardless of the place, temperature, or season; but I at least feel more justified in that extra scoop of mint chocolate chip (and rainbow sprinkles, of course!) during these dog days of summer.

I have done my fair share of ice cream consumption so far this summer. And it all started with gelato. Real gelato. Real ITALIAN gelato. In June, my high school girlfriend and I did a 3 week tour throughout Europe. The entire trip was unbelievable! I real once-in-a-lifetime adventure. Seven Countries, eleven different cities, and still one of the best experiences was the gelato in Italy. On average twice a day, my friend and I indulged in all flavors of the rainbow. Amaretto and mint. Black cherry and coffee. Hazelnut and dark chocolate. We were little gelato chefs, experimenting with the most delicious combinations. But no matter the flavor or the combination, you can't go wrong with real italian gelato. Its smooth, cool, creaminess hits your tongue and the grime crusted into your feet and the salty sweat caked above your lip instantly melts away. With each bite, the velvety goodness massages and soothes your parched throat. And no matter how fast you gulp it down, I don't think it's possible to get brain freeze. Trust me, I practically inhaled this stuff and not once did my head ache, only a lovely taste of heaven for as long as you can savor it.

Now as I'm sitting here at 10:45 at night, I can feel my body thirsting for gelato. Real gelato. Real ITALIAN gelato. Since I won't be eating any of the real thing again for a loooong time, I guess my reserve of Ben & Jerry's Half Baked will have to do. And in this heat, I think it will do just the trick ;)

Day 1

As a recent college grad hoping to break into the journalism biz, the number one thing I've heard over and over again through countless "informational interviews" (and actual, although obviously unsuccessful, job interviews) is "WRITE, WRITE, WRITE!" Write for the local newspaper, freelance, tweet, start a blog, just write as much as possible. Sure, I keep a journal, have a Twitter account, and follow various blogs, but I have yet to get my own writing, my own words out there, somewhere.

So, here it goes. No more procrastination. No more laziness. No more excuses. My first blog!

This is going to be a sort of day-by-day experiment. Not only do I want to get my writing out there, but also learn the process of what it takes to write something EVERYDAY. So while I hope my content and writing will be interesting, this blog will also be about what goes into keeping a blog--what makes something fascinating to me and how to make this thought-provoking to other people.

Day 1. Food 4 Thought. Let's get hungry!