In my home that is a common question. And, usually the answer is not quite. You see actual cooking is really not my thing. I am rather in the garden pulling out something by its roots, sitting on my porch feet up on my hot pink wicker ottoman sipping tea, or running up and down my stairs with buckets of laundry. And, what is interesting about the fact that I really don’t like to cook, is that I love everything about food. I love spices, I love the shine of an apple, I love dishes, modern and old chipped china, I love stemware, I love table lines, and I super love tablescaping. I love trying new food, and restaurants, and growing food in my deck pots. I love talking about food. I love thinking about food. I love throwing dinner parties. I just don’t like cooking it. Strangely, from time to time I hit a groove where I think I might like it. Usually, its after an inspiring trip to Whole Foods or something. For awhile, I think, I have patience to stand here and dice chives into small green confetti, really, I do. I try thinking happy domestic Martha-type thoughts. I smile at my oven. I lovingly pat my counter top and survey my ingredients with confidence, sort of. It’s encouraging really. And, then, the feeling skips away, like a quick call to Dominoes pizza. Now, as I write this I’m thinking your totally judging me. What kind of attempt at food blogging are you really up to here anyway? Well, I’m hoping for that inspiration. And, believe me, I’ll be looking for it. I believe that life is a process and eventually, maybe, all this food stuff will rub off on me, and I’ll learn to smash garlic sideways on a chef’s knife with ease.
