AS SOMEONE WHO HAS STRUGGLED WITH EXPRESSING HERSELF, WHETHER THROUGH ART, writing, speaking, or even knowing what it is she’s thinking about, this cookbook has been a trial of communication—a way to see both past and present and make sense of my life through the medium of food. Had I known, when I left home for college, the importance of learning how to cook, slow down, and take care of myself, maybe I would have reached my implied notion of success and …
Ok, I laugh just thinking about it. I was doomed from the start, as we all are with such ideas of a straight path and infinite future. One that doesn’t hiccup, zigzag, bounce around, and land somewhere unexpected. It is that giant gap between one’s expectations and one’s reality that has to be navigated. And you’re lucky if you find an outlet to pour your craziness into and have it reward you with something good to eat afterwards.
At the time when everything was falling apart, I was far from laughing or even remembering what a joke was, but now, after examining and documenting my journey, I can say that it was all worth it. For me, very little of what I had imagined as a child has happened, art being the one exception. Food never factored in, but had I kept to my self-imposed fantasy, I would have missed out on a much better reality.
Plans only go so far. In the end, you have to trust yourself, not just in making decisions, but deep down, in the person that you are, and the things you know you are capable of doing. The ability to take care of yourself is one of the few forms of real security in this adult world. When all is said and drawn and written down in permanent ink, I feel at home in my body, having found a balance between doing and being. Food was my medicine and I feel satisfied with who I am. I hope you will too. Thank you for reading and cooking with me.