My good friend Sam told me yesterday that if I want to write, then I have to find the time to do it every day. Sounds good. Awesome. Easy peazy lemon squeezy. I am a notorious procrastinator and I sometimes start things I don’t finish. I’ve started a few blogs in the past with clever titles like “Kulinarienne” and “The Procrastinator’s Kitchen” and lo and behold, after a few valiantly consistent posts, I never touched it again. The truth is I’m afraid it won’t be good enough to make an impact on anyone but me, which is my ultimate goal… but I need to get over that.
So this is as “scratch” as it gets. I’m going to write about food. About drinks. About Des Moines. About the amazing people that I get to meet on a daily basis. I will attempt to do this as eloquently and accessibly as possible.
It’s always been a task for me to put into words about my relationship with food. In the most simplistic terms: food is merely the medium with which most (some, not all) food industry professionals create art. We tens can be hard to come by nowadays, but we’re always there, fighting the good fight. Sometimes fighting with each other. Sometimes fighting with ourselves. We’ve all read Kitchen Confidential and Devil in the Kitchen (if you haven’t read these titles, don’t come back until you have!) There’s a certain reputation that we restaurant-folk carry; lushes, cretins, uneducated, general miscreants you could either trust with your life or would expect to shank you to steal your pack of P-Funks. But there’s a special place on every bar’s ban list reserved for cooks. Cooks (real cooks) are a special hybrid of fire-proof, pressurized, highly caffeinated insanity. We know it. We embrace this truth and we turn around to face the world and say, “Yep.” Then we crack a tall-boy at 10 am, turn on some Daft Punk and start ticking away at that prep list. It’s either a good or a bad night. Clock out. Drinks. Sleep. Repeat.
That being said, cooks can be some of the most brilliant people you’ll ever meet. Not saying I could count myself among these few, but someday. Cooks could become this planet’s army if things continue to go south. Think about it… they thrive in high-pressure, hot, small spaces, work well with fire and blades, can usually make something edible out of.. anything, and are there to work the work. We have time, taste, talent, and we aim to please (even if we hate to admit it). Thusly, I am here to please. To inform, educate, enlighten. All while knowing and embracing the fact that I, myself, am and will always be a student. Absorbing, retaining, repeating, improving.
This is where I start. Where I finally find out if I’m made of what it takes to be a food writer. My mind will be running on all cylinders; I will remember tastes, smells, textures, good, bad, ugly, brilliant and try to relay and/or convey these experiences. So basically I will try my best to keep this going. Thanks.