My Food Journey

I suppose that I will officially admit that I am enamored with food. I have allowed it to cast a spell over me that willingly continue to remain under it. But from whence did this stem?

As a child, I had a fairly typical midwestern exposure to food, but with little nuances that added variety.My maternal grandmother was Armenian, so at times she would make lahmajoun or sarma, requiring an entire day of cooking, as she made enough to feed our family, which consisted of six children, for more than one meal. I also had baklava, tabbouli, and lamb, which other children on my school bus certainly were not fed at home. Below, I am pictured putting the finishing touches on crimping the edges of lahmajoun before baking. 

My paternal grandmother was Polish and at times made Chrusciki. I had eaten Pierogi and Paczki. Beyond that, the food I grew up eating was fairly healthy, garden grown in the summer, and rare instances of eating outside of the home. I learned to cook up basics like frozen vegetables, french bread pizza, spaghetti, steak, and hamburgers. My training was adequate that I cooked for my family at least once a week and cooking to feed myself after moving away to college was no problem. The first time that I remember being excited about a particular restaurant, it was the discovery of a place adjacent to my college campus known for having a vast variety of dipping sauces. They served everything from sauces that were really an entree, such as a Philly cheesesteak" style to one with a Mediterranean flare. Somehow this felt like creative cuisine to me.

A few years later, I began really enjoying baking, taking baked goods to work, making cakes for friends, and learning that I could execute baked goods at a level decent enough that I had plenty of willing consumers. I even took the time to get paperwork to register with the local farmer's market, imagining that maybe I would select a few recipes to sell each month. 

Before that idea took flight, I moved to California. A number of things happened in the intervening years. First, I began to travel a little bit outside of the country, exposing me to international cuisine that was authentic, as I was never sure if a midwestern restaurant was adequately representing whatever genre they claimed, and I was also dating, going out to eat, and learning about what and how other people eat. I think it is key to note that I was always open to trying new foods and did not struggle with any feelings of pickiness or aversion to food, but instead was always willing to try something new with the assumption that if another culture found it to be worthy of eating, then I was ready to try it. Over the years, I have also come to believe that if I do not care for a food, it is likely due to the way it was prepared and that I will enjoy it if cooked another way or by someone more skilled. 

My willingness to try new foods opened unlimited food experiences. The more that I tasted, the more my interest and hunger to find new foods grew. Now, I feel most alive when surprised by an unexpected flavor combination or when wandering through a foreign marketplace and seeing something that I do not recognize, followed by tasting and researching what it is.