Have you ever put something off because you feared failure? Maybe you delayed a difficult conversation because you might say the wrong thing. Or perhaps you avoid wedding dances for fear of looking like a klutz. Or, like me, you decide to put off that first experience of skydiving because “failure” would be quite tragic. 🙂 Well, I have wanted to make bacon jam for years, but have been afraid the end result would be disappointing. But the day of boldness finally arrived.
On this, the 200th post on my little blog, I don’t want to write about yet another recipe. Instead, I want to highlight a person who embodies the unadulterated love of cooking, creativity, and beauty. This person is not a chef – even though he could claim vocation at any top restaurant in the world – but rather someone who has chosen cooking as a means of expressing innovation and passion. The ultimate avocation.
Some times I long for simpler days. I even get twinges of nostalgia for the pioneer times – neighbours had to work together, houses were small and easy to maintain, divorce was unheard of, children didn’t stare at an iPad all day long, and mealtime was a family affair.
I am embarrassed to admit that I actually like the shorter days of autumn. Seriously! During the long daylight hours of summer, I need to be outdoors from sunrise to sunset. When darkness hits about 6:00, I treasure evening in the cosiness of our home.
With the onset of the fall schedule, I need to do more advance preparation than during summer break. Some times my brain doesn’t like to think and plan! Spontaneity is too much fun — except at 6:30pm when everyone is hungry!
As a middle child, I tend to be a people pleaser. But at the same time, I don’t like to be boxed in. As important as rules can be, for the most part, they are simply guidelines.
It is so much fun to see how Kristina has surpassed me – by light years – when it comes to cooking. She is creative and instinctive, and possesses the natural ability to invent adventurous (and wonderful!) culinary combinations.
My mother was an elementary school teacher – back in the days when the ABC’s were more important than teaching political correctness. Her mother was also a teacher – before college degrees were required for educators.
I’m so thankful some people are picky eaters! A few years ago we attended a wedding reception, and sat at table with several people we didn’t know. The first course of the dinner was a tiny bowl of lobster bisque. Some people don’t like seafood! Hooray! I got to eat their soup course, which totally made my evening.
While in Ukraine, we ate soup every day. Temperature over 90 degrees: soup for lunch. Humidity at the tropical level: soup for supper. Long days of teaching, playing, and chasing kids: soup for lunch AND supper. In fact, my Ukrainian interpreter (and friend) was stunned to learn that our family doesn’t eat soup for 4 or 5 months out of the year. But now I am converted to being a Summer Soup Supporter.