Sometimes when I'm feeling old and introspective, much like one might feel in the last week in her 20s, I think about how I've evolved as a person over the years. Sometimes it’s easy to track down specific events or circumstances that have shaped me into who I am or who I hope to become, but other times it's just not that clear. Over the holidays, my family and I discussed my food beginnings - that is, when was it that the tides really changed for me, when cooking and food became such an interest to and a part of me. My answer to this was easy: it all happened while I was in law school.
What started as hosting dinners for my study group first year blossomed into creating a quasi-bakery (Delectables) out of that old Spokane kitchen and acquiring a nickname around school (Martha Stewart). Reading hundreds of pages of case law every week and surviving the Socratic method in class, I would often find myself stressed or overwhelmed with the sheer volume of material and figuring out a way to make it stick just long enough to endure each and every one of those three-hour finals for six semesters. A coping mechanism, baking soon became my escape. It's not that I didn't enjoy law school - I loved it - but sometimes my brain just needed a break from the chaos. I suppose in a way, when I received that J.D., I not only had gained a legal education, I gained a culinary one too.
While I was so sure that I had absolutely no interest in cooking until law school, I came across some evidence recently proving that my food beginnings started much earlier than I had thought. About a month ago, I grabbed my pink diary from my memory box at my parents’ house that recorded the exciting life and times of Allison Ruecker in 1992 (May 12: “Dear Diary, I know I’m really boring, but a lot of these pages are really short. I never have any thing excitng.”) I was hoping when I opened this diary that the pages would reveal information about my old classmate of whom, 19 years later, I now call my beau, but after reading all 365 entries, his name wasn’t uttered once (sorry, Gabe). While some pages were filled with fascinating stories of our pet lovebirds nesting or my struggles with juggling in PE, much of the time I would tell my diary (or my sister, who would steal it to read and write messages in it) that I had nothing to say. I recorded the most mundane of events and kept things short and simple (April 21: "I had a really good piano lesson. That’s all. Bye."), but what I found most interesting was how often I would mention food. And no, I was not a fat kid.
Beyond discovering that I found the topic of what my mother made for dinner to be noteworthy on several occasions throughout the year, I also unearthed documentation suggesting I was cooking as a 10 year old. Take note of July 15: “Today I did a little cooking. First I made strawberry short cake. Then zuccini bread, and then some cookies. Natalie and I went on a bike ride, while Rachel went to a pool party. My Uncle Cory came and we had spaghtii. (Oh yeah I made the sauce.”
And then the very next day…
July 16: “Today went to Royal Oaks with Natalie. We went off the diving board about 50 times. I made pigs in a blanket for dinner. I burned myself. OUCH!”
I may not have been the best writer or speller back then, despite an entry showing that I must have been (February 19: “I’m so happy I got first place in the class spelling bee. That’s about it, well got to go to sleep.”) But it’s good to know that my skills have improved since the early ‘90s (they have, haven't they?) and that my interest in food and culinary experiences date back much farther than I had realized. How funny that just T minus 5 days away from my 30th birthday, I found the last entry of my diary to read: December 31: “…Well, guess I have to say good-bye to this diary for good. I might not open this till I’m 30, I don’t know. Happy New Year and hope I have a nice 1993!” Here's hoping the same goes for 2012.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Like there ain't no yesterday
Hey, it's 2012. We made it!
Since it's a new year, I figured it's time to get back to the business of writing. Google Analytics has really stepped it up, and I've been poring over clatter's statistics today. I now know everything about you, dear readers - like where you're located, how often you're checking the blog, how long you spend here, and how many of you are returning visitors. I guess what I'm saying is I'm basically at borderline stalker status. After geeking out over charts and graphs, I've realized that I have enough loyal readers who keep coming back for more (a special hello to those of you reading from Brazil and Europe - are you really there?) that I need to actually write something new for you to read. I might be inconsistent and slightly unreliable, but you should still visit often. Here's your dangling carrot: I have a new project up my sleeve for this year that you might like. Unlike last year's literary/culinary collaboration that belly-flopped, this is one that I intend to stick with until it's complete. Stay tuned.
In other news, I got some new, super cool gear for the clatter kitchen for Christmas - including none other than the Cuisinart ice cream maker I've been pining over since...well, for a very long time. The boy who gifted it to me sure knows how to tug at my heartstrings (he must be a keeper). To commemorate the new year, I first tried out the new machine by whipping up a batch of fresh lemon sorbet. Holy moly. Please sir, can I have some more? With a new kitchen scale and cast iron skillet to boot, I think I can almost call myself a real cook. I also acquired a Costco container of peanut butter pretzels that I'm barreling through at an alarming rate. Embarrassing. Next paragraph please!
With 2011 now behind me and my laptop in front of me, I feel like I'm back in the saddle...although I'm not sure that I'm holding the reins. I can feel the horse pulling forward and the earth moving below me, but I'm not sure where I'm headed, or when I'll get there. My limbs may be flailing and my eyes might be wide, but this ride isn't scary - it's freeing and exciting. I sense that big changes are in store and good things will happen in the coming year. Most remain unknown, but one thing I know for sure is this: there will be ice cream. Lots of ice cream. If I act quickly enough, there could even be something crazy like chocolate-caramel ice cream with crushed peanut butter pretzels (just imagine the salty sweetness!). While I listen to the soothing drone of my beloved ice cream maker create its magic, I might do some writing too. See you soon.
Since it's a new year, I figured it's time to get back to the business of writing. Google Analytics has really stepped it up, and I've been poring over clatter's statistics today. I now know everything about you, dear readers - like where you're located, how often you're checking the blog, how long you spend here, and how many of you are returning visitors. I guess what I'm saying is I'm basically at borderline stalker status. After geeking out over charts and graphs, I've realized that I have enough loyal readers who keep coming back for more (a special hello to those of you reading from Brazil and Europe - are you really there?) that I need to actually write something new for you to read. I might be inconsistent and slightly unreliable, but you should still visit often. Here's your dangling carrot: I have a new project up my sleeve for this year that you might like. Unlike last year's literary/culinary collaboration that belly-flopped, this is one that I intend to stick with until it's complete. Stay tuned.
In other news, I got some new, super cool gear for the clatter kitchen for Christmas - including none other than the Cuisinart ice cream maker I've been pining over since...well, for a very long time. The boy who gifted it to me sure knows how to tug at my heartstrings (he must be a keeper). To commemorate the new year, I first tried out the new machine by whipping up a batch of fresh lemon sorbet. Holy moly. Please sir, can I have some more? With a new kitchen scale and cast iron skillet to boot, I think I can almost call myself a real cook. I also acquired a Costco container of peanut butter pretzels that I'm barreling through at an alarming rate. Embarrassing. Next paragraph please!
With 2011 now behind me and my laptop in front of me, I feel like I'm back in the saddle...although I'm not sure that I'm holding the reins. I can feel the horse pulling forward and the earth moving below me, but I'm not sure where I'm headed, or when I'll get there. My limbs may be flailing and my eyes might be wide, but this ride isn't scary - it's freeing and exciting. I sense that big changes are in store and good things will happen in the coming year. Most remain unknown, but one thing I know for sure is this: there will be ice cream. Lots of ice cream. If I act quickly enough, there could even be something crazy like chocolate-caramel ice cream with crushed peanut butter pretzels (just imagine the salty sweetness!). While I listen to the soothing drone of my beloved ice cream maker create its magic, I might do some writing too. See you soon.
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