By way of introduction

I've come to a crossroads of sorts in life, where I've decided its important to set aside time to do the things that I love, mainly to write. Simply for myself, and the pleasure of writing. I've long stood by the mantra of "write what you know." I've spent a lot of time thinking about what it is I know. We're taught through high school and college to become "well rounded" human beings. Play sports, join the environmental club, take a dance class, learn how to sew. But this seems to just create a list of mediocre hobbies, there are a lot of things I can do, but what is it that I KNOW.

What I know is food. Food was a part of my life before I was even born. My grandfather got his ride to America by becoming a waiter and eventually cook on a ship. He made his way across the Atlantic via the kitchen, and eventually found himself a head chef in Manhattan. It only seems fitting then, that his daughter, my mother, married my father, a butcher, who had such a deeply engrained passion about meat that to this day I still don't comprehend. Because of this, I spent the first years of my life playing with Barbies in the back of a butcher shop. The scents of my childhood were composed of the tangy cheese that hung from the ceiling and the sweet metallic smell of raw meat. I had liver patte sandwiches in preschool for lunch and knew how to make mozzarella from scratch by my seventh birthday.

Using food as my guide, I hope to be able to write what I know, and maybe, if its interesting enough, a few people will enjoy the ride as well.