I feel as though I have abandoned my child at the side of the road. For years I have wanted to be a food writer and just when I started to get an audience for my writing, I drop you all!
Well it is not as though I don't have a reason. (Double negative?)
And what could be the reason?
Work. Yes, work. This whole working thing is kicking my tush! You know, the whole, two days on two days off! It is the worst.
I know. I must be joking.
But I hate to say it: I'm not. I am done after two days. It is silly. It is ridiculous. But after eight hours on my feet, I start to glaze over. My knuckles ache from gripping on to my knife all day. My back and shoulders hurt from being hunched over my table constantly. I have athlete's foot because my feet spend hours in my soggy, sweaty Crocs. The kitchen smell has reentered my life (imagine the smell of vomit, yup, that's it). I come home reeking of it.
And this is not exciting work. What I do is not like what you see on TV. I am talking cutting melons, Romaine lettuce, slicing tomatoes....And not just a few. I cut three different kinds of melons, ten of each...the process alone dulls my newly sharpen knife. Not just two or three Romaine heads, but try twenty or thirty. My father still doesn't understand how exhaustive this work is. He sees my Mother and I, laughing and smiling when we cook together- a far cry from working in an all male, Spanish speaking kitchen, cooking for 400 people with time restraints, egos and yelling Chefs and Sous Chefs.
But luckily for me, I am beginning to train in the front of the house which means I spend most of my day interacting with the clients. Yes, the students of Soka Uni, yup making smoothies, and coffee drinks....have I ever mentioned I have two degrees? So it could be easily said that I may be just a tiny bit, underemployed. Oh, but my friends, I am not complaining, merely stating the obvious. In this day and age, I am THRILLED with my job. But I love it. The students are super friendly and easy to joke with. My superiors are fun and approachable. Plus, less time in the kitchen = less vomit smell. And, I don't even break out in a sweat!
This isn't really where I imagined myself at 30. But, I realized tonight, what I pictured doesn't matter any more. Because it doesn't exist. I am here and I have to make the most of it. It doesn't matter where I am now, but where I am going. And I can finally say, I am moving forward. This is not something I could have said six months ago. With that said, enough about me, let's talk food!
Okay, I hope that this was worth the weeks that have gone by. Probably not, but it was a surprising discovery for me.
As I have written before, I try and make things on the "healthier side". Which isn't really fun, but, go with me here. I love mayo. I love to dip my fries in mayo. I would dip most foods in mayo if given the choice, because it is delicious. With that said, do you think this gal would even eat Light mayo? NO! My thought is, if I am going to eat mayo, I am going all the way.
I want to eat every single calorie and gram of fat that is in that gob of decadence!
Well, I was quite surprised when one day at work I tried to recreate my mother's well loved potato salad with Kraft Light Mayo....I didn't notice a difference. Yes it was mixed with potatoes, Dijon mustard, radishes, red onions, cucumbers and hard boiled eggs but I didn't really notice a flavor or texture change.
So, once again, I come before you and I say I am converted! I was wrong, just about homemade mayo, just about shopping at farmer's markets and yet another, the old Light mayo. So give it a try, see how it goes and let me know what you think!
And I have been told by a dear friend, that I need to revisit Shrimp Scampi...seeing that he gave it to me as an "assignment" I will comply and come to you tomorrow with a new improved Scampi recipe with lots of butter and good stuff! I wish you all well!
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