Somewhere along the way I became a foodie. It started out innocently enough. I found a blog, 101 Cookbooks, that had recipes for vegetarians. Thinking that my overly carnivorous diet could probably use some healthy introductions, I made a mental note of the blog and visited it occasionally. But as we all know, some things are gateways. 101 Cookbooks was my gateway into food porn. Food porn isn't as shameful as regular porn. You can view it at work or your parent's house. But it elicits similar reactions of "Ooooh, that looks good!" Food porn is frequently accompanied by pictures, and almost always includes directions on how to recreate the porn in your own kitchen. By the time I hit VanillaGarlic, a blog mainly devoted to foods of the baked persuasion, I'd fallen far down the rabbit hole into culinary decadence.
My foodie emergence actually reignited my desire to like eggs. For 22 years and 50 weeks I was a stalwart egg-hater. Now I have tried to like eggs for a long time (my parents can attest that I did so frequently and vigilantly). Every time, my attempts were foiled by a texture and taste seemingly so vile I couldn't even imagine people would attempt to eat it. My foodie revelations taught me that anything can be done (This attitude excludes sweet peppers. I hate them, they're atrocious, and I don't WANT to like them.). So every day for two weeks, I ate a minimum of two eggs. Overeasy, over medium, fried, poached, soft boiled, scrambled. I ate them on sandwiches, by themselves, with ketchup (reminding me that I don't like ketchup). And a strange thing happened. I started to like them. And then I started to get obsessed. Eggs, I found, are an easy and delicious food that can be cooked in no more than 10 minutes on any given occasion. They're good all day long, particularly on English muffins when accompanied by cheese. The end result, apparently, is that I make fantastic eggs a ton of different ways. They're now my roommate's and friends' favorite request at my apartment. I suppose it's nice to know I make something well.
My foodie adventures have also taken me into cooking rather adventurous cupcakes. A favored concoction of mine was a chocolate cupcake with dark chocolate ganache filling and a mocha buttercream frosting. I, of course, won't touch this cupcake due to its chocolatey nature. Work, however, seemed to give rave reviews that suggest I should probably start to write these things down.
Indulging my food-adoring self, I got a Cuisinart for my birthday, which I have wanted since I was approximately 12. Wanting to commemorate the occasion of such a grown-up piece of kitchen equipment, I decided that I'd have to make something extra delicious for its first use - White Chocolate raspberry scones. I suppose I'll have to trek out to Whole Foods for some decent white chocolate, but I bet it will be worth the trip and expense when delightfully English pastries make their way out of my oven. For now, however, it sits in its box, sad that I'm too afraid to use it on something I've never made before (soup) and unwilling to use it for something simple (cupcakes). Tonight, however, I will certainly open the box and assemble the very shiny new parts in order to quell my need to play with it. I'm turning rather domestic, and I think I'm ok with that.
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