Right now Peppermint Patty is my least favourite Peanuts character. It's nothing personal, but it is what it is.
Have you ever made something so often that you get to a point you never want to see, smell or taste it again?
I am gearing up for wedding season and am trying to get things out of the way that can be done ahead of time. One of my couples decided they wanted peppermint patties as part of their reception because it brought back memories of where they met (and where I met them as well). I determined that I could make the centres ahead of time and freeze them. Then all I have to do is dip them in chocolate the week of the wedding.
Well, I made a quadruple batch knowing I would have some leftovers but that is good in case some don't look nice or I decide I need them for another use. I figured I would do 130 for the wedding and if I could squeeze out 3 dozen more that would be great. Well, I worked for a couple of hours on them the first night and got 160 (about what I wanted) and still had some peppermint "dough" leftover. I put in the fridge and two days later I decided I would use it up. I kept making them and making them and ended up with 322 centres in my freezer! Now peppermint is a very acute scent. It can be pleasant, unless you are inhaling it for long periods of time. It permeated into my nostrils and even 3 days later I am still smelling it! Now I am not complaining, because I love my work, but I am making lots of notes on how many a batch actually does! At least I have a few weeks before I go on to the second phase to desensitize myself from the taste and smell of peppermint. Oh, and dear bride, if you are reading this, I love you to bits and would do it again in a heartbeat for you!
This brings me back to a memory of my maternal Grandmother. She would come stay with us during summers when I was growing up. One of my jobs in the summer to earn more allowance (so I could spend more time at the pool!) was to pick raspberries from the bushes in our back yard. I would do them in the early morning or evening so that it wasn't so hot. But my Grandmother was a diabetic and also happened to love raspberries. She ate them morning, noon and night and as such wanted me to pick them morning, noon and night! She was always asking if I could go get her a fresh bowl full even though there were tons in the fridge already waiting to be eaten, frozen or turned into jam. I would go, but after three long summers of this it got pretty tiring.
My friends used to call me "Raspberry" because I constantly smelled like them and my hands were often dyed red from the juice. For about 20 years I would get sick at the sight and smell of them and never wanted to ever be in contact with them again. But it finally wore off and I do eat and cook with them, in moderation. And when I do, I can now look back fondly at those days I had with my Grandmother and realize it really wasn't a high price to pay to make her happy....and I got paid for it too!
Isn't that the same in life? That we can get too much of a good thing and have to leave it aside for awhile. I got thinking of Susan Boyle, the Scottish singer who wowed the world with her beautiful voice that didn't fit the package it was wrapped in on "Britain's Got Talent". Within days she was all over the internet, TV, radio, papers, you name it. What is sad about this is that by the time she gets to the next round of the show two things may happen - people will be tired of the story and/or she will have been made over and the magic will be gone. I hope that they give her the space she needs to be herself and the rest of the world a chance to desensitize from the hype so her next performance will be as magical and enlightening as the first!
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
Keep Your Fork
I don't know why, but on this Good Friday I am reminded of a little anecdote I first heard in church and have since seen many times in my email in variations on the same theme.
It starts out with an elderly woman who has no family and she is in very poor health. The pastor comes over one day to visit her and take down the arrangements she would like for her funeral. They go through all the basic information and then she makes one more request. "Pastor, I want you to make sure that I am buried with a fork in my hand". Now the Pastor had known this woman for a long time and had never known her to do anything out of the ordinary, so he was totally taken by surprise by this comment. "Why a fork"?, he asked.
She said, "Well, at all the church banquets I have attended, we have always been asked to keep our forks when the tables are cleared before dessert and I looked forward to that because it was always the best part of the meal". So, I want to be ready with a fork in my hand as I go to heaven, because I know the best is yet to come".
Isn't it true, that many of us see dessert as the best of any meal, no matter what is served at any course? I remember growing up I would always make Christmas dessert. They started with simple Jello concoctions and got more fancy every year. And the extended family would always ooooo and ahhhh over it and I would feel so special.
It is nice when we can put that same enthusiasm into other expectations in our lives, whether it is doing well on an exam, finishing school, meeting the right person, getting married, having a child, going on a trip to a place we haven't been, or, going to heaven.
So food can represent expectation. This can be positive, like a wonderful dessert or, sadly it can be the expectation of where your next meal will come from and when. Kinda sounds like life, doesn't it?
It starts out with an elderly woman who has no family and she is in very poor health. The pastor comes over one day to visit her and take down the arrangements she would like for her funeral. They go through all the basic information and then she makes one more request. "Pastor, I want you to make sure that I am buried with a fork in my hand". Now the Pastor had known this woman for a long time and had never known her to do anything out of the ordinary, so he was totally taken by surprise by this comment. "Why a fork"?, he asked.
She said, "Well, at all the church banquets I have attended, we have always been asked to keep our forks when the tables are cleared before dessert and I looked forward to that because it was always the best part of the meal". So, I want to be ready with a fork in my hand as I go to heaven, because I know the best is yet to come".
Isn't it true, that many of us see dessert as the best of any meal, no matter what is served at any course? I remember growing up I would always make Christmas dessert. They started with simple Jello concoctions and got more fancy every year. And the extended family would always ooooo and ahhhh over it and I would feel so special.
It is nice when we can put that same enthusiasm into other expectations in our lives, whether it is doing well on an exam, finishing school, meeting the right person, getting married, having a child, going on a trip to a place we haven't been, or, going to heaven.
So food can represent expectation. This can be positive, like a wonderful dessert or, sadly it can be the expectation of where your next meal will come from and when. Kinda sounds like life, doesn't it?
Thursday, April 9, 2009
When life gives you lemons...make lemon cake!
Have you ever had one of those days where you just can't seem to get anywhere? Well, I have been having one of those weeks. I had left some ground beef in the fridge to make lasagna for yesterday and we ended up eating out with Dad for both lunch and dinner so I never got it made. I went to make it today, too late for serving tonight but I wanted to use the beef up and I realized I miscalculated the days and it was bad. 2 pounds of extra lean organic beef wasted.
I pulled a pound of unsalted butter out to do some baking, only to find it had gone moldy....in the fridge!
Many other little goof ups during the week, some food related, some not, and I was ready to pack it in. But I had one of my summer brides coming over and I still hadn't tried out a new recipe for lemon cake to see if it would be suitable for her wedding cake.
Now I have a cardinal rule - don't bake if your mind isn't on it and your heart isn't in it because it won't turn out and you will just feel worse! But I decided to ignore this rule and make the cake anyway - a fairly complicated recipe - with only two hours before the bride was due to arrive.
I started grating the lemon rind and caught my finger on the rasp. I then stabbed myself twice while separating the lemons into supremes (the sections without the thin skin on them). I finally got the lemons done and realized I hadn't got my butter out to soften (which is when I noticed it was moldy). Thankfully I had another pound and a microwave.
Well, after that point things turned around and the cake came out beautifully. The perfect flavour and texture for a wedding cake. It was cooled just as the bride came in and we had a piece each. She loved it! And I started having a much better day from there on.
So today food was a life lesson for me. Next time I am having a rough day, I will head to the fridge for some lemons and make a cake.....or, maybe even some lemonade!
Now I can't share today's recipe because it is copyrighted, but it is from Warren Brown's book, Cake Love - an excellent cookbook from a baker extraordinaire!
I pulled a pound of unsalted butter out to do some baking, only to find it had gone moldy....in the fridge!
Many other little goof ups during the week, some food related, some not, and I was ready to pack it in. But I had one of my summer brides coming over and I still hadn't tried out a new recipe for lemon cake to see if it would be suitable for her wedding cake.
Now I have a cardinal rule - don't bake if your mind isn't on it and your heart isn't in it because it won't turn out and you will just feel worse! But I decided to ignore this rule and make the cake anyway - a fairly complicated recipe - with only two hours before the bride was due to arrive.
I started grating the lemon rind and caught my finger on the rasp. I then stabbed myself twice while separating the lemons into supremes (the sections without the thin skin on them). I finally got the lemons done and realized I hadn't got my butter out to soften (which is when I noticed it was moldy). Thankfully I had another pound and a microwave.
Well, after that point things turned around and the cake came out beautifully. The perfect flavour and texture for a wedding cake. It was cooled just as the bride came in and we had a piece each. She loved it! And I started having a much better day from there on.
So today food was a life lesson for me. Next time I am having a rough day, I will head to the fridge for some lemons and make a cake.....or, maybe even some lemonade!
Now I can't share today's recipe because it is copyrighted, but it is from Warren Brown's book, Cake Love - an excellent cookbook from a baker extraordinaire!
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Meatloaf and Memories
I made meatloaf tonight. I was actually quite nervous about it too. Why would a so-called trained cook be nervous about making a simple meatloaf? I make them all the time, but NOT for my Dad. It is one of his favourite comfort foods and I remember the wonderful smells of meatloaf and fried potatoes wafting through the air in our home while growing up.
I don't make mine the same as my mother did. I of course don't use flour or crackers or oatmeal. Instead I use a little bit of sweet rice flour. No, it isn't sweet tasting, just more glutenous than regular rice flour without the wheat gluten that affects Hubby and I in different ways. I also don't use pepper so I have to rely on salt and my herbs to season everything.
So, as I threw this comfort food meal together I was filled with memories of a mother I miss who taught me more about cooking than I learned at school, and with a nice bit of anxiousness that it pass the taste test of her number one food fan, my father.
His eyes lit up when he saw it on the table, and after we said grace I watched out of the corner of my eye to see his first reaction. Much to my relief and delight, he had a very satisfied look on his face as he gobbled the plate full of food down. This is the man who wasn't eating much before he moved in with us and here he was wondering what I would do with the last of the fried potatoes, ready with fork in hand to save them from the garbage can (also known in this house as the dog dishes!).
Food can just be a way of sustenance or it can be a memory in the making. It all depends on how you want to look at it. For me, specially since Dad moved in, it has been a way to connect with a Mother who has been gone for many years, but lives in my heart and my kitchen.
Mother's Meatloaf (Modified)
2 pounds lean beef (I use extra lean)
1 small onion chopped fine
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons mixed dried herbs (when I have fresh I use them)
salt and pepper as desired
2 eggs
1 oz (1/8 cup) sweet rice flour (or you can use cracker crumbs or regular white flour)
2 Tbsp ketchup
2 Tbsp BBQ sauce (home made is best but store bought is fine)
2 tsp Worcestershire sauce
Mix together with hands and press tightly into a large loaf pan, making a small trough all around the edge for the fats to run off. Cover the top with ketchup and/or BBQ sauce and bake at 350 for about 1 hour until the centre reads 170 on a meat thermometer or juices run clear. Drain fat off a few times during cooking. Let rest five minutes in pan, drain one more time and then turn over onto serving plate.
I don't make mine the same as my mother did. I of course don't use flour or crackers or oatmeal. Instead I use a little bit of sweet rice flour. No, it isn't sweet tasting, just more glutenous than regular rice flour without the wheat gluten that affects Hubby and I in different ways. I also don't use pepper so I have to rely on salt and my herbs to season everything.
So, as I threw this comfort food meal together I was filled with memories of a mother I miss who taught me more about cooking than I learned at school, and with a nice bit of anxiousness that it pass the taste test of her number one food fan, my father.
His eyes lit up when he saw it on the table, and after we said grace I watched out of the corner of my eye to see his first reaction. Much to my relief and delight, he had a very satisfied look on his face as he gobbled the plate full of food down. This is the man who wasn't eating much before he moved in with us and here he was wondering what I would do with the last of the fried potatoes, ready with fork in hand to save them from the garbage can (also known in this house as the dog dishes!).
Food can just be a way of sustenance or it can be a memory in the making. It all depends on how you want to look at it. For me, specially since Dad moved in, it has been a way to connect with a Mother who has been gone for many years, but lives in my heart and my kitchen.
Mother's Meatloaf (Modified)
2 pounds lean beef (I use extra lean)
1 small onion chopped fine
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons mixed dried herbs (when I have fresh I use them)
salt and pepper as desired
2 eggs
1 oz (1/8 cup) sweet rice flour (or you can use cracker crumbs or regular white flour)
2 Tbsp ketchup
2 Tbsp BBQ sauce (home made is best but store bought is fine)
2 tsp Worcestershire sauce
Mix together with hands and press tightly into a large loaf pan, making a small trough all around the edge for the fats to run off. Cover the top with ketchup and/or BBQ sauce and bake at 350 for about 1 hour until the centre reads 170 on a meat thermometer or juices run clear. Drain fat off a few times during cooking. Let rest five minutes in pan, drain one more time and then turn over onto serving plate.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Stoup
I was reminded today about a time a few years ago which really brought home the importance of food in our lives. A friend started going to an area of Vancouver which had become the haven for the homeless with a bunch of sandwiches and drinks.
He spoke about his experiences with his young son and the people they met on the streets. My hubby and I, as well as others, wanted to get involved and I started making a five gallon pot of something that was heartier than a soup but not as thick as a stew, hence the name "stoup". We had other volunteers make sandwiches and desserts and still more going out to deliver them.
I went out a couple of times and found myself referred to as "the stew lady". It was very humbling to see a drug deal going down with someone you just handed some food to or to see a young woman come for food between "dates". But these people were real and their stories were real and their hunger was incredibly real - not just for the food, but for the respect and love we tried to give with each sandwich, cup of stoup or cookie.
At Christmas we collected socks and other items to give to them and doubled our pots to two and sandwiches to 200. We have out oranges, butter tarts, and other items that would make them feel that they were not left out over the holidays.
We eventually moved our route to an area closer to home and just as needy. We decided for Easter one year that we would give them a sit down meal of ham, scalloped potatoes and all the fixings at a nearby shelter. But we weren't prepared for something. People started lining up for the food like they were used to and we said "no, we want to serve you". This caused quite concern because they were not used to it and as they saw people at tables beside them get food and they didn't they were uneasy.
It was hard for us to understand that they were used to certain things and more comfortable that way. In a line, you know exactly who is ahead of you and who is behind and there is no fuss. But if you sit at a table and see someone get food that sat down after you it is just not cool. But there were incredible moments that day as well, like the man who sat in a corner sobbing his heart out. Another woman and I went over and asked what was wrong, thinking he didn't get enough (or any) food. His reply stays with me to this day. "No ma'am, I had lots to eat. It is just that I ain't tasted no ham in about 20 years and it was so good!".
One of my fondest memories was praying over the food as it was leaving our house and saying "Let this food not only nourish their stomachs but their hearts as well". I learned through those couple of years that it isn't totally true that you can reach a man's heart through his stomach. In feeding his stomach, you can also reach your own heart.
Tonight I served my Dad and I some small steaks I cut off a whole sirloin tip I bought last week and thought of how many people would be happy to have a cup of stoup, a sandwich and a glass of juice. Makes you think, doesn't it?
STOUP
6 pounds ground beef
3 pounds onions, chopped
5 pounds potatoes, half diced and half cubed
3 pounds carrots, sliced
3 pounds turnips and/or parsnips, cubed/sliced
3 liters of canned chopped tomatoes, with liquid
1 cup beef bouillon powder
6 cups elbow macaroni
salt, pepper, Italian herb seasoning mix to taste
Brown the beef in large stock pot (at least 5 gallons), drain and add the onions until soft. Add the canned tomatoes and stir to clean the bottom of the pot. add diced potatoes, carrots, turnips/parsnips, boullion powder and seasonings. Add water to cover all and simmer until vegetables are almost tender (diced potatoes should almost dissolve and thicken). Add macaroni, cubed potatoes and more water if needed. Cook until macaroni and potatoes are done. Stir often and do not let boil too much or vegetables with sink to the bottom and burn. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. The stoup should be thick enough that a wooden spoon placed in the centre will stay standing!
He spoke about his experiences with his young son and the people they met on the streets. My hubby and I, as well as others, wanted to get involved and I started making a five gallon pot of something that was heartier than a soup but not as thick as a stew, hence the name "stoup". We had other volunteers make sandwiches and desserts and still more going out to deliver them.
I went out a couple of times and found myself referred to as "the stew lady". It was very humbling to see a drug deal going down with someone you just handed some food to or to see a young woman come for food between "dates". But these people were real and their stories were real and their hunger was incredibly real - not just for the food, but for the respect and love we tried to give with each sandwich, cup of stoup or cookie.
At Christmas we collected socks and other items to give to them and doubled our pots to two and sandwiches to 200. We have out oranges, butter tarts, and other items that would make them feel that they were not left out over the holidays.
We eventually moved our route to an area closer to home and just as needy. We decided for Easter one year that we would give them a sit down meal of ham, scalloped potatoes and all the fixings at a nearby shelter. But we weren't prepared for something. People started lining up for the food like they were used to and we said "no, we want to serve you". This caused quite concern because they were not used to it and as they saw people at tables beside them get food and they didn't they were uneasy.
It was hard for us to understand that they were used to certain things and more comfortable that way. In a line, you know exactly who is ahead of you and who is behind and there is no fuss. But if you sit at a table and see someone get food that sat down after you it is just not cool. But there were incredible moments that day as well, like the man who sat in a corner sobbing his heart out. Another woman and I went over and asked what was wrong, thinking he didn't get enough (or any) food. His reply stays with me to this day. "No ma'am, I had lots to eat. It is just that I ain't tasted no ham in about 20 years and it was so good!".
One of my fondest memories was praying over the food as it was leaving our house and saying "Let this food not only nourish their stomachs but their hearts as well". I learned through those couple of years that it isn't totally true that you can reach a man's heart through his stomach. In feeding his stomach, you can also reach your own heart.
Tonight I served my Dad and I some small steaks I cut off a whole sirloin tip I bought last week and thought of how many people would be happy to have a cup of stoup, a sandwich and a glass of juice. Makes you think, doesn't it?
STOUP
6 pounds ground beef
3 pounds onions, chopped
5 pounds potatoes, half diced and half cubed
3 pounds carrots, sliced
3 pounds turnips and/or parsnips, cubed/sliced
3 liters of canned chopped tomatoes, with liquid
1 cup beef bouillon powder
6 cups elbow macaroni
salt, pepper, Italian herb seasoning mix to taste
Brown the beef in large stock pot (at least 5 gallons), drain and add the onions until soft. Add the canned tomatoes and stir to clean the bottom of the pot. add diced potatoes, carrots, turnips/parsnips, boullion powder and seasonings. Add water to cover all and simmer until vegetables are almost tender (diced potatoes should almost dissolve and thicken). Add macaroni, cubed potatoes and more water if needed. Cook until macaroni and potatoes are done. Stir often and do not let boil too much or vegetables with sink to the bottom and burn. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. The stoup should be thick enough that a wooden spoon placed in the centre will stay standing!
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Back to Basics
Recently my father moved in with us. He is a diabetic, my hubby is gluten and lactose intolerant with a stomach ulcer and I have some food sensitivities of my own. I went to culinary school a few years ago not to become a renowned chef, but to learn how to cook for groups of people and to adapt recipes.
Today I made, for the third time, my own pork sausage. I want a tasty, gluten free alternative to what you get in the stores. I start with lean ground organic pork and have been experimenting with herbs and spices. This last batch got sage, thyme and an Italian herb mixture, plus salt and only a sprinkle of white pepper so that it will be ulcer friendly. This time I made a sausage ragout for spaghetti, and made the rest into 3.5 ounce patties - they are great for putting on an English muffin (or GF bread) with an egg and some cheese (any resemblance to a major fast food outlet is open to interpretation!).
The ragout turned out very nice. I used crushed tomatoes (again organic), onions, the sausage and some organic chicken broth.
Oh, so while I am talking about all this organic and home made foods, my hubby comes in at lunch from walking the dogs through the park and says "it is baseball season at the park and I walked by the concession stand so can we have hot dogs and french fries"? Well, at least I made home made fries, and the hot dogs were all meat, no filler. It made Dad and hubby happy so I guess I can't always cook healthy!
But I am doing the best I can to get back to making home made instead of canned, frozen, packaged, etc. If I can manage one meal a day I should be happy with that.
Today I made, for the third time, my own pork sausage. I want a tasty, gluten free alternative to what you get in the stores. I start with lean ground organic pork and have been experimenting with herbs and spices. This last batch got sage, thyme and an Italian herb mixture, plus salt and only a sprinkle of white pepper so that it will be ulcer friendly. This time I made a sausage ragout for spaghetti, and made the rest into 3.5 ounce patties - they are great for putting on an English muffin (or GF bread) with an egg and some cheese (any resemblance to a major fast food outlet is open to interpretation!).
The ragout turned out very nice. I used crushed tomatoes (again organic), onions, the sausage and some organic chicken broth.
Oh, so while I am talking about all this organic and home made foods, my hubby comes in at lunch from walking the dogs through the park and says "it is baseball season at the park and I walked by the concession stand so can we have hot dogs and french fries"? Well, at least I made home made fries, and the hot dogs were all meat, no filler. It made Dad and hubby happy so I guess I can't always cook healthy!
But I am doing the best I can to get back to making home made instead of canned, frozen, packaged, etc. If I can manage one meal a day I should be happy with that.
The Day After the Week Before
Well, today started like a normal day. Well, normal where there are no smells of baking wafting through the house and a long list of "to do's" on the fridge white board.
Don't get me wrong. I love baking, specially for others, and I find it very healing to mix up a big batch of batter and have it turn into something wonderful for all the senses to enjoy. It has just been awhile since I had my last marathon - August, I believe, when I made 200 plus cupcakes to get 150 good ones for a "wedding cake".
This past week it was a total labour of love - loaves and muffins for a ladies tea at the church. It was so good to be back in the groove and a wonderful practice for this summer's wedding marathon. But more on that in the days to come!
For the tea, I made 6 dozen each of three kinds of muffins (chunky monkey, oatmeal ginger and cranberry orange) and 3 large loaves of a butter pecan quick bread. Two other ladies each took one type of bread (lemon loaf and pear bread) and we spent two hours yesterday morning cutting and plating it all. As usual, I forgot to take pictures, but in this case I think that was okay because it wasn't about ME and my catering - it was about the 60 and more ladies that came to the tea.
It was actually quite nice to just sit back in the corner and watch everyone eat, checking out the menu on each platter trying to figure out what was what and what they wanted to try next, without being (or needing to be) the center of attention because I made it. Food is about friendship, joy and, of course, filling a hunger. But I don't think it is always a physical hunger - I think food goes deeper than that. It does sustain us; however it also nourishes the brain, emotions and senses. In this day and age of fast food and faster lives, we forget that fact.
For me, doing this baking helped wash away the pain (physical and emotional) of the last year or so while I had and recovered from knee replacement surgery. I honestly thought I wouldn't be able to batch cook, let alone cater, again. Yesterday was the culmination of a week of proving that theory wrong. I am back and ready to share the gift I have been given of feeding people.
This brings me to the title of my blog. I call it "Thought for Food" rather than the more common other way around because I think sometimes we don't give it enough thought. And yet food has been part of humanity.....well since the beginning of humanity. It has fed us, addicted us and even got us into trouble (remember that first apple that was eaten in the garden of Eden?). Food is taken for granted by many and become a luxury for others. The purpose of this blog is to recount my own food adventures and to discuss it in general. I don't want to make it your average food blog for cataloging my recipes, but more of a journey to share, as you would a good meal. It will be scattered with stories, recipes and pictures (when I remember to take them).
Don't get me wrong. I love baking, specially for others, and I find it very healing to mix up a big batch of batter and have it turn into something wonderful for all the senses to enjoy. It has just been awhile since I had my last marathon - August, I believe, when I made 200 plus cupcakes to get 150 good ones for a "wedding cake".
This past week it was a total labour of love - loaves and muffins for a ladies tea at the church. It was so good to be back in the groove and a wonderful practice for this summer's wedding marathon. But more on that in the days to come!
For the tea, I made 6 dozen each of three kinds of muffins (chunky monkey, oatmeal ginger and cranberry orange) and 3 large loaves of a butter pecan quick bread. Two other ladies each took one type of bread (lemon loaf and pear bread) and we spent two hours yesterday morning cutting and plating it all. As usual, I forgot to take pictures, but in this case I think that was okay because it wasn't about ME and my catering - it was about the 60 and more ladies that came to the tea.
It was actually quite nice to just sit back in the corner and watch everyone eat, checking out the menu on each platter trying to figure out what was what and what they wanted to try next, without being (or needing to be) the center of attention because I made it. Food is about friendship, joy and, of course, filling a hunger. But I don't think it is always a physical hunger - I think food goes deeper than that. It does sustain us; however it also nourishes the brain, emotions and senses. In this day and age of fast food and faster lives, we forget that fact.
For me, doing this baking helped wash away the pain (physical and emotional) of the last year or so while I had and recovered from knee replacement surgery. I honestly thought I wouldn't be able to batch cook, let alone cater, again. Yesterday was the culmination of a week of proving that theory wrong. I am back and ready to share the gift I have been given of feeding people.
This brings me to the title of my blog. I call it "Thought for Food" rather than the more common other way around because I think sometimes we don't give it enough thought. And yet food has been part of humanity.....well since the beginning of humanity. It has fed us, addicted us and even got us into trouble (remember that first apple that was eaten in the garden of Eden?). Food is taken for granted by many and become a luxury for others. The purpose of this blog is to recount my own food adventures and to discuss it in general. I don't want to make it your average food blog for cataloging my recipes, but more of a journey to share, as you would a good meal. It will be scattered with stories, recipes and pictures (when I remember to take them).
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