It’s dinner hour at The Big Traveling Potluck. I head straight for the kitchen. Three of the ladies behind The Potluck—Erika, Pam, and Sharon—garnish the succulent smoked lamb and pull the vegetable skewers out of the oven.
Tina, a strong Finnish woman and host of the night’s events, hands me two spoons and a silver tray piled high with lamb and lollipops of vegetables. “Let’s go,” she says.
On November 29, 2007, I made a decision that would start a chain reaction of transformation and change. I wrote a recipe for a dish I developed and clicked the “Publish” button for the first time on. Five years ago today, I staked a place for my little blog, Food Woolf.
Even the smallest action can result in big change. Just ask a ship captain how a simple adjustment of just one degree–sustained over time–can seriously alter a boat’s final destination.
A life changing meal in Panicale, Italy brought me the awakening I needed to wake me up to the need to enjoy my life as an artist. I was an isolated, frustrated screenwriter with few film credits to her name and no Hollywood sale to pay the bills. I was constrained by my art form. The act of screenwriting felt far too futile and dedicated to the constant practice of living in fantasy.
The decision to start my blog was the result of a resolution to try something different. Food Woolf would be my place to offer up weekly literary homage to food, cooking, and my life as a restaurant professional. I would use the blog to motivate me to leave my home and document my life in the world.
It took me a while to sand down the edges to get to the core of what this blog was about. My first post began as a kind of love letter to Nancy Silverton and a conversation we had about a recipe I developed. Over the years I dabbled in restaurant reviews, food profiles, and even did the occasional food news round up. I charted my irrational fear of baking, and spoke about the challenges of being a waiter.
I’ve attended more than my share of food blogging events over the past five years. I’m a veteran of icy cold air conditioned conference rooms, Power Point presentations about stats and SEO, and hallways filled with anxious participants who fear being irrelevant. I’m no stranger to food conference agendas, food vendor giveaway frenzies, the anxious shaking of hands, and camera/gear/gadget/logo/design/fashion/friend envy.
But at the Big Summer Potluck–a third annual gathering for new and veteran food writers, photographers, and recipe developers put on by my good friend Maggy (Three Many Cooks), her mother Pam, and the lovely Erika (Ivory Hut)–everything is different. The focus is on small and intimate. The food is simple and made by people you know (or will know) over the course of the weekend. Speakers like Joy (Joy the Baker, Molly O’Neil (Cook n’ Scribble, and myself shared about what matters most in our hearts. Great food making demos from Marissa (Food in Jars) & Max Hansen offered attendees insights into invaluable techniques for canning and curing they can use at home.
Rather than focusing on technology or new frontiers of financial success, the retreat’s themes were on sharing, vulnerability, honest work, and mindfulness. The location itself–at Silver Buttons Farm and the Anderson’s secluded home in the Pennsylvania woods–invited frank discussion and forging of friendships.
Thanks to the masterful work of the team behind The Big Summer Potluck, attendees felt safe enough to get honest. We opened up about the things that scared us and mattered to us most. We got still. We put away our cameras, stowed our iPhones, and spent time listening to each other, rather than running off to the next thing. We shared personal issues and realized we weren’t all alone.
When your day starts, what’s the first thing you do after you wash up and have that first cup of coffee? Do you turn on the computer to check in with the world via Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, your favorite blogs, your go-to online news source, or sites like Tastespotting and Tasty Kitchen? Do you wade through the slosh pile of emails, follow up on your blog’s comments, and check your website’s stats? Do you send out a Twitter message after you’ve photographed your breakfast and posted it on Instagram?
Let’s face it, we’re drowning in information before our day even really starts.
Somewhere after all that social media and networking, we also need to find time to have a life, be with our family, exercise, and maybe even pet the dog. But in order for us to make wise decisions, experience joy, and create something significant in our lives an on our blogs, we have to be truly present in the moment. But how can we appreciate or perceive anything now, when the endless chatter of information overload has taken over the space in our day that was once dedicated to quiet contemplation, creativity, and real human interactions?
Technology and new media is an important part of our modern world, but the necessity for downtime remains. It’s in the silence–the moments between moments–that real life happens. Great ideas, life changing meals, and brilliant solutions are discovered within a pregnant pause, a forced break, or a little get away. It is in the stillness–quiet places like the shower, at the top of a mountain, in the middle of a field, or at the edge of the ocean–that inspiration comes. Inspiration comes when we’re not paying attention or gripping down on some problem we’re trying to figure out.
But who has time to slow down, take creativity breaks, unplug from the internet, or even meditate? How can we inspire others if we can not give ourselves the gift of time and space to be inspired?
Later today, I’ll be joining eighty technologically savvy and warm-hearted people at this year’s Big Summer Potluck in Bucks County, PA. This small gathering of food writers, photographers, and bloggers are taking the weekend off to recharge batteries, meet internet friends, and spark the creativity that fuels us to continue creating great content.
My husband and I are flying three thousand miles across country with the effervescent Gaby Dalkin (What’s Gaby Cooking) so we can take part in this year’s Big Summer Potluck in Bucks County, PA. This small, close-knit group will be gathering at Silver Buttons Farm in Carversville, PA for a weekend of lavish meals, honest conversations, cooking sessions, and inspiring talks with people like Joy Wilson (Joy the Baker), Maggy Keet (Three Many Cooks), Pam Anderson (Author of the Cook Without a Book series) and myself.
I look forward to sharing about the topic of mindfulness and how we can apply ancient and modern techniques to accessing the internal wisdom needed to create beauty in the world. Tune into what’s going on via Twitter feed @TheBigPotluck or the hashtag #BSP3.
I look forward to seeing good friends and making new ones!
“You know what I can’t stand?” a food writer recently said over dinner. “How many people feel the need to say they’re honored and humbled whenever they write about all the great things that happen to them.”
The table of creative types groaned and rolled their eyes in agreement. I sat in stunned silence. What’s so wrong about the words honored and humbled?
Another friend added, “I understand if you’ve got lots of great things going on in your life. But don’t waste our time with honored and humbled when a simple thank you would suffice.” Conversation faded to the background. My mind spun. What about these two words could be so offensive?
The more I thought about it, I realized what my friends were really saying wasn’t that the words honored and humbled are bad. Not at all. What they were complaining about was how those words had become trite. But why had so many people (even people like me) used “honored and humbled” so much? Those questions got me thinking about what might really be going on.
What’s the big deal?
It seems that whenever the words honored and humbled appear online, they tend to be followed by a brief announcement of some personal success. If you’ve ever followed @humblebrag on Twitter, you’ll see my friends aren’t alone in noticing a trend in how people communicate good news online. Some people honestly mean what they say, while others use words like honored, humbled to subjugate a self-congratulatory agenda. Unfortunately, for those who use this phrase often, the predictability of the combination of words has become so clichéd, honored and humbled hold no truth within them any more.
The struggle between balancing core values and a public persona has many of us bloggers scrambling for words that will protect our sense of identity. But the thing is, no matter how humble we may be, the instant transfer of important and mundane details of our daily lives to hundreds, thousands, or millions of followers on Twitter automatically qualifies us as social media show offs. No matter what words we use to try to ease our discomfort in our situation, the truth of the matter remains, our relationship with social media has many of us experiencing an identity crisis.
Going on a summer vacation isn’t a unique concept. But a group of food bloggers vacationing together? It’s a somewhat unusual idea, considering how our friendships all began.
We started as strangers with a common bond. We got to know each other over website pages. We forged friendships over Twitter and the occasional get together. Press trips and conferences followed. But rare are the times when we food professionals come together without an conference or PR event to motivate long periods of time together. Unfamiliar are moments that aren’t devoted to networking, talking technology, and sharing food stories.
We’ve perfected the art of eating together. But a vacation?
The plan was simple. A small group of food blogging friends–Matt Armendariz, Adam Pearson, Maggy Keet, and Gaby Dalkin–would gather together at a retro-house in Palm Springs for a mini-vacation. There would be no agenda and no to-do list. We would be without PR wranglers and our time together would be devoid of “break out sessions”. The only objective was to spend time together and relax by the pool.
Later, I would find out there would be wigs. But more on that later.
#PSSalon
I’ve spent my entire artistic career quietly dreaming of a day when I would be invited to sit at a table with great thinkers, writers, artists and confidantes. I never could find my fellows in the performing world. I failed to locate true collaborators in film school. Was my dreamy ideal of a 17th century salon–a place where great thinkers and artists would come together to inspire, critique, and develop their craft–a pipe dream?
Truth be told, it wasn’t until I joined the food blogging community almost four years ago, that I began to experience a modern academy. How we food bloggers influence, encourage, and drive each other to achieve great things through our online work and social media maneuvering is something to behold. It is exactly what I had been yearning for all these years.
It wasn’t until I took my place at that gaping-holed dining room table in Palm Springs with the likes of Matt Armendariz, award winning photographer and designer; Adam Pearson, a professional food stylist; Gaby Dalkin, a personal chef, driven business woman, and online personality; Maggy Keet, a writer, visionary, and co-founder of the non-profit Bloggers without Borders–that I realized that the hashtag #PSSalon was a true representation of what was happening. We didn’t push. We didn’t schedule. We just let things happen. We coaxed each other to investigate our motives and our professional opinions. We explored hard topics, engaged in witty banter, and artistic criticism.
Palm Springs Salon became a 2011 version of the 1920’s Algonquin Table.
That’s not a question most people have the chance to think about on a daily basis. But if you’re Sophie Chiche, the curator of the inspiring website, Life By Me, you get to contemplate that question every day. On the colorful pages of Life By Me, you’ll find readable interviews from contributors from all walks of life. Sophie documents great conversations with Nobel Peace Prize recipients, massage therapists, designers, visionary leaders, teachers, fellow blogger Chris Gillebeau, and people like me.
What is most meaningful to you in your life?
The speed of today’s modern world has many people devoting their time to the daily monotonous tasks. Without an internal compass driving you to find meaning in the small gestures or be useful in all your actions, the daily task of keeping on top of the bills, showing up to work on time, answering emails, and putting food on the table will grind you down. But small tasks can take on a whole new significance if done with the purpose of giving, devotion, and commitment.
Life is a precious commodity. Why fill up all the spaces with meaningless tasks?
I recently had the good fortune to answer Sophie’s big question of meaning, thanks to a friend who put in a good word for me. I urge you to clear a few minutes from your busy day to spend some time looking around this inspirational online resource. If you’re interested in finding out how I answered the big question of meaning, swing by the website and read my interview here.
Do yourself a favor and pay a visit to Life By Me. Sophie and her team have created a beautiful website that sparks hope, creativity, and a desire to find meaning in the small and big moments. Life By Me makes you want to take positive action in your life to create significance.
Is what’s meaningful to you an ever-changing target?
Or does one thing in your life give you purpose?
In just a few short years since food blogging became an established sub-group of the blogging world, an online community of mavericks blazed a path through the wild west of online food writing. Trend setting men and women like Elise Bauer of Simply Recipes, David Lebovitz, Pim Techamuanvivit of Chez Pim, and Shauna Ahern of Gluten Free Girl pioneered an entirely new way of looking at and documenting their experience with the food.
Their work began simply. With time, however, they began to innovate, create, and establish the groundwork for an entire genre. Thanks to their early efforts, where there was once nothing but desert, there grew whole communities of food obsessed artists, consumers, and everything in between.
Recognizing the need for modernization, newspapers like the New York Times and Los Angeles Times brought food reporting online. Magazines added internet features. Media sites like Serious Eats and Eater popped up as impromptu news sources and gossip columns. Businesses that recognized the financial potential of harnessing the power of public opinion, they created online reviewing sites like Citysearch and Yelp.
The internet was the New World and in short time it was colonized with innovative new food writers, food photographers and stylists, online reviewers, gossips, and opinionated commenters. Innovation begat breakthroughs. In very little time the once small community of “food bloggers” multiplied at great speed.
And yet, there was very little talk about responsibility.
The Food Blog Code of Ethics
Back in early 2009, in a little corner booth at a Los Angeles restaurant, my friend Leah Greenstein and I—two food writers and restaurant professionals—discussed our observation of a disturbing trend within the restaurant community. Inside the kitchens and dining rooms of restaurants across the country, owners, chefs, and service professionals seem to have a mounting distrust of anyone calling themselves a food blogger. We recognized that the restaurant professionals’ swelling dislike of the online food blogging community was due in part to reckless and irresponsible conduct from people who published their views and opinions online. Yelpers wrote reviews with the intention of destroying businesses. Bloggers used their websites as a threat to do harm to restaurants or a business’ reputation.
Leah and I were frightened of what seemed to be coming: an inevitable war between a lawless group of online publishers and the establishment (restaurant professionals, food reviewers, and the law). Rather than be damaged by the reckless acts of others, Leah and I set out to write our own set of guiding principles that carved out a path on the higher ground of ethics. We hoped our manifesto would inspire us and perhaps others, to think about the power and responsibilities of online publishing on a daily basis.
Turns out, our manifesto did get a lot of people talking (and arguing). It spread through the internet like wildfire across an open prairie. Along the way we might have gotten a little scorched, but the positive results outweighed the challenges.
Soon after, the FTC stepped in to represent the first arm of the US Law. The Federal Trade Commission threatened suit against businesses that failed to reveal their financial dealings with influential online publishers. Suddenly, blogs, websites, and even profit-driven media sites began disclosing corporate sponsorships and posting their own code of ethics. Food blogging conference halls buzzed with people having heated debates over the limits of language to protect them from being prosecuted, ridiculed, or devalued for not disclosing freebies, trips, samples, give aways, and other gifts.
In many ways, the Wild West of the food blogging world began to seem a little more civil.
That is, until the mavericks became online celebrities. That’s when the trolls arrived. Hate-mongering individuals who spewed spiteful comments and emails from false accounts began popping up all across the internet.
Then Twitter came along. Twitter opened up whole new territories like a speeding train through the early gold mining towns of the Wild West. Those who did not have time to blog, had time for Tweets. Suddenly, anyone with a thought about food or restaurants could express themselves with lightening fast results. As the speed of everything online increased, the attention to responsibility and accountability dwindled. Who had time to think about the responsibilities of what they had to say? It was just 140 characters. How much trouble could they get in?
Friends, I see before us another turning point. Though the Wild West of the blogosphere may look a lot less untamed than it once was, many of its inhabitants are still feral.
No matter how much a person might say they don’t have to play by anyone’s rules, one thing is clear: No one is above the law. It doesn’t matter if you are a commenter, a blogger, a Twitter star, or even an editor of a gossip rag, eventually you will be held accountable for your actions. Courts and government agencies are building cases against the uncivilized. We are expected to be civil. We should take it upon ourselves to be responsible, accountable, and honorable before someone takes that right to self-govern away from us.
Consider this, if you create anything that goes online, you have power. If you have power, you have responsibility.
So, in hopes up giving the original Food Blog Code of Ethics a bit of a sprucing up, Leah and I got together to make it a little bit more contemporary (and short).
Today I am moderating a panel at the Western Foodservice and Hospitality Expo with Brad Metzger of Brad Metzger Restaurant Solutions, to speak about the relationship between online food writers and chefs. If you happen to live in (or near) San Diego, please come by and join in on the conversation.
“I was thirsty you gave me something to drink. I was a stranger and you invited me in.”
When many of us in the food blogging community learned of the tragic loss of Jennifer Perillo’s husband, Mikey, we felt the compelling need to give something of ourselves. We banned together in great numbers and reached out to each other and to Jennie with prayers, words of hope, and images of compassion. Thousands of us followed Jennie’s simple suggestion of baking a peanut butter pie in remembrance of her beloved. The baking and sharing words of support via the #apieforMikey Twitter meme, soothed our collective ache of grief.
Late Friday night I received an email from my big-hearted friend, Shauna from Gluten Free Girl. She asked via a moving letter if a handful of trusted friends would be available to help participate in an effort to raise money for Jennie. Her email explained that with Mikey gone, Jennie faces some rather significant challenges in the not-so-distant future. Their medical insurance will end in December. The policy’s monthly renewal rate will cost more than the family’s monthly mortgage.
Shauna suggested we offer up gifts of ourselves–a service, a food item, a piece of art–for a fund raising auction. Thanks to the assistance of a non-profit organization called Bloggers Without Borders, every item auctioned off will result in real dollars to be donated into a fund created specifically for Jennifer and her two little girls.
In case you haven’t heard of Bloggers Without Borders yet, it’s because it is a newly formed non-profit organization for bloggers, by bloggers. Co-founded by my friend and accountability partner, Maggy Keet (Three Many Cooks) and Erika Pineda-Ghanny (Ivory Hut), this non-profit organization strives to use the diverse resources of bloggers to help other bloggers and people in need.
You can follow what’s happening on Twitter with #AFundforJennie. #AFundforJennie is a call to action for anyone willing to give generously of themselves via donations of money or of items of self. This fundraiser is our chance to step beyond what feels comfortable and give in a more substantive way.
To make a direct donation now, click that big BWOB DONATE button above.
A piece of me for a friend in need
As a restaurant consultant, I am in the business of service. I help restaurant owners and leadership teams focus on their long-term vision for their business, empower staff, and educate teams on how to give great service to customers. The more I teach the art of customer service, the more I realize that the work I do has roots in the ancient teachings of compassion and generosity. Great spiritual teachers throughout the ages teach the need to make a purposeful effort to improve the conditions of others. The lesson is simple: if we want to have happy and fruitful in business and in our lives, we have to be generous of spirit and give of ourselves authentically.
So when you live a life of service, there isn’t space for hesitating when you are called to be of assistance to a friend in need. All there is room for is YES, WHEN, and HOW MUCH. You just do it. Continue reading “Acts of Compassion #AFundForJennie”
A great trip lingers with you long after you return home. A successful vacation is one where memories are unpacked long after the suitcase is emptied and the laundry is done. For me, the best journeys are the ones that get inside my heart and rearranging things.
It’s been more than a week since I came back from Louisiana and I’m starting to realize that my trip reorganized a few things in my life while I was away: I’ve got new beautiful friendships to foster and a whole new set of cravings to grapple with.
Since my return to LA, my imagination whirls over gems of stories of the Louisiana food world. My daily routine is peppered with flavored memories of diners, ice cream shops, a water-side bar where the locals cook up craw fish outside under a tent, and the all-night beignet restaurant littered with empty plates covered in powdered sugar.
Food isn’t just a meal in New Orleans, it’s a way of life.
Of all the states I’ve visited, I have never been to any other American city where its inhabitants are so closely aware of their cultural history and culinary traditions.
New Orleans is a mélange of spicy cultures (French Canadian, Spanish, Africans, English, German, Italians, and Native American) that has created a uniquely colorful people with strong ties to family, food traditions and a shared heritage. I was charmed by the stone-lined sidewalks, Creole townhouses with iron-worked balconies, and hotels like the French Quarter’s Bourbon Orleans Hotel that have marketing materials that tout ghoulish history more than amenities. Brass bands paraded through the streets as second-liners [see glossary, below] danced a two step and waved handkerchiefs over their heads in celebration of marriage.
New Orleans after a rain storm
Always, the locals repeated this constant refrain: indulge in the city’s most famous dishes and forget about the caloric aftermath.
Regulars at Camillia Grill
The food tour
For almost one full week, the food blogging tour of Louisiana was given unlimited access to culinary professionals and abundant samples of the state’s culinary bounty. Luckily for our bellies, our itinerary of eating started slow. But as the days went on we managed to shock even ourselves–professional eaters that we are–by the sheer amount of food we were able to consume.
On our first night in the city, Blake Killian, the man behind BlakeMakes, summoned us to our first dinner at Bistro Maison de Ville. Bow-tied waiters served a multi-course dinner dedicated to the theme of showcasing the best of Louisiana seafood. Course after course, we marveled at the freshness of the seafood and the firm texture of the perfectly cooked shrimp.
Camillia Grill
Camellia Grill’s exterior signage
The following morning I joined a small, ambitious group of professional eaters (Chichi Wang, Maggy Keet, and Daniel Delany) to sneak in an extra meal before our first official eating excursion of the day. Daniel lead us to Camillia Grill, an all-day favorite with the locals since 1946. We ordered a few classics, including a show-stopping stack of pecan-studded pancakes. I don’t often shorten my words here at Food Woolf, but OMG.
Pecan pancake with maple syrup
After polishing off a Manhattan Omelet (corned beef hash, cheddar cheese and potato stuffed eggs) and pecan pancakes, we staggered through the oppressive heat with swaying bellies. We gathered together under the watchful eye of Blake for a festival celebrating Creole Tomatoes, Cajun Zydeco music, and Louisiana Seafood.
“When you think of all the news you’ve seen about Louisiana, what images flash through your mind?” asked Mike Voisin, a seventh-generation Louisiana oysterman. Voisin, the CEO of Motivatit Oysters, paced around the air-conditioned conference room as he spoke to his visiting guests.
An assortment of bloggers and food writers from across the States–hand-picked to observe Louisiana’s seafood industries and partake in the state’s diverse food culture–sat around the conference room table conjuring up images: submerged homes, flood-stranded dogs, desperate men and women on rooftops waving white sheets for help, oil-slicked wildlife, and tar-soaked birds.
“We are not what the perception of what the media has made us,” Voisin said. Despite the fact that almost one hundred percent of the state’s fisheries are open and functioning and have passed national and state testing for health and safety, much of the seafood buying public fear the Gulf-state’s products aren’t safe to eat. According to Voisin, the unprecedented attention of the media has given Louisiana’s seafood industry a bad reputation.
“It’s kind of hard to get that image of an oil slicked pelican out of your mind when you’ve seen it a million times, isn’t it?” Voisin said. “Louisiana has a branding problem…We have shrimp, crabs, and oysters but what we don’t have are people willing to buy.”
The uniquely difficult challenge facing the Louisiana seafood industry is exactly why Louisiana Seafood Promotions and Marketing Board decided they needed to reach out to consumers in a revolutionary way–through food.
An Invitation to see the real Louisiana
When it comes to news headlines, a couple of things sell really well: natural disasters, tragic loss of life, celebrity gossip, hero stories, and adorable animals. When one single news event touches all these aspects with one soaring narrative, it’s a media goldmine.
Blame it on the perfect storm of natural disasters that’s befallen Louisiana over the past seven years, but the state has certainly been the source of a lot of headline news. With Hurricane Katrina in 2005, and Deep Water Horizon’s oil spill in April of 2010, international media teams swooped into the coastal state to document the disasters. Stories of tragedy, redemption, faith, hope, celebrity interest, and distress were easy to find in this Creole/Cajun state.
Thanks to a huge influx of money to the state of Louisiana, much progress has been made in just one year since the oil spill. Houses and businesses have been rebuilt, fisheries and rice fields are producing again, and tourism is improving (According to the tourism board, the state earned 5.3 billion dollars in tourism last year). Yet despite the positive changes and commitment to becoming a strong and successful state, Louisiana’s seafood industry is struggling.
Seeing a problem, Louisiana’s Seafood Promotion and Marketing Board did some research and quickly realized the general public couldn’t get over the horrifying images of the past so easily. So, in order to change perceptions about the seafood and motivate people to start buying Louisiana seafood again, they began devising a different sort of plan to get the word out.
Rather than coming up with slick slogans, cunning advertising, or a give away contest, the Seafood Board decided to call upon a handful of trusted voices in the food world to come and experience Louisiana from a culinary and cultural point of view. Who better to get the word out about a food crisis than a bunch of hungry and inquisitive food bloggers?
Bloggers (Amateur Gourmet, Serious Eats, Family Fresh Cooking, and Three Many Cooks) observe the day’s blue crab catch.
I’m a film school grad, but you wouldn’t know it from reading this site. You’ve never read any drafts of my screenplays, I don’t rant about movies, and you’ve certainly never seen any short films. But the times they are a changing, my friends.
Don’t worry. I’m not looking to change the way I do things around here, but when I realized I could shoot and edit great photos and even make a short film with my iPhone, I started to re-think my Luddite ways. Why not take advantage of all this new-fangled technology that’s at my finger tips (literally). I can not and will not slip into default mode of being a slow adopter of new technology. No sir!
So taking a cue from all my tech-savvy food blogging buddies, I join the world of amateur video. And it’s about time.
Now before you spend the two plus minutes watching my humble video post, I should mention that the subject of this short is about a five day trip to New Orleans I just got back from. Thanks to the generosity of Louisiana Seafood Board, I was flown to Louisiana (along with a handful of this country’s top food bloggers) for a tour of New Orleans’ culinary scene and Louisiana’s fisheries and seafood processing plants. The excursion was designed to show us (and give us tastes of) all the great seafood that Louisiana has to offer.
It was an incredible trip that has my mind spinning, stomach extended, and photo library brimming with so many incredible photos I’ve been struggling to figure out where to begin. So rather than start off with an extra long essay on the subject of Louisiana seafood, I thought I’d start you off with a brief visual teaser of what’s to come.
So without any further ado, I present to you my first iPhone short film.
Food Blog Masters trip to New Orleans
*Full Disclosure: My trip was furnished by the Louisiana Seafood Board. I was not paid to supply any opinions or material on the behalf of the organization or the state of Louisiana.
Something I would never expect happened to me today. I was browsing in the baking section at one of my favorite cooking supply stores and day dreaming about baking. I know. It’s a miracle. Or maybe it’s the Food Blogging Bake Sale for Share our Strength that’s got me thinking about something other than getting over my fear of baking.
Today is a day dedicated to all things baked because I’m helping with all sorts of preparations for tomorrow’s nation wide bake sale. The second annual Los Angeles Foodblogger Bakesale—organized by the fabulous and extraordinary Gaby of What’s Gaby Cooking—is the flagship city for the nation-wide event that gathers the nation’s top bloggers/food writers/and chefs to raise money for Share our Strength, an organization striving to eradicate childhood hunger in America by 2015. I’m excited to be part of this talented pool of food lovers who are gathering up all their best baked goods to bring awareness to this very real problem that’s happening in your city and, more than likely, in your neighborhood.
I couldn’t think of a better reason to spend all day in the kitchen.
Several months back I shared a deeply personal story about a difficult time in my life when I was a hungry kid. Luckily, childhood hunger wasn’t something I had to face for a very long time, but those early experiences of asking for help and being denied assistance changed me. Having a door slammed in your face when you’re a hungry kid has a way of affecting your relationship with food and the rest of the world. It’s taken me a long time to feel comfortable sharing my story, but I knew it was important to reveal the honest truth to bring light to a subject matter that many people believe only affects a marginal group of people in our country.
But the fact is, at least one kid in ten is hungry in America. Not just in the cities. Not just in the poor rural areas. In just about every school in America, there are kids struggling to find food to fill their empty bellies.
There’s more hunger in the classrooms than you’d care to believe. In rural and urban schools, a majority of kids (65%) aren’t getting fed well at home and must rely on school lunches for their main source of nutrition. Considering the fact that many children must rely on schools to feed them, SOS has a number of summer lunch programs in place to make sure summer vacation is something all kids can look forward to.
So whether or not you are in Los Angeles or are near another city that’s hosting a Food Blogger Bake Sale, you can donate a few dollars here to support the cause. And if you are in Los Angeles and have something of a sweet tooth or want something healthy and good, I highly recommend you swing by BLD (7450 Beverly Boulevard, Los Angeles, CA 90036) for a treat. You will not be disappointed. Continue reading “Food Blogger Bake Sale for Share Our Strength”
I was in Ann Arbor, Michigan when everything changed. It was October, and I was like the trees of the college town—tall, proud and newly painted with the vibrant colors of transformation. I was a sight to behold—a woman with a heavy backpack and camera around her neck—proud, energized, and flush with the bright hues of an internal revolution. I glowed with happiness as the passing days brought life-altering change. I gave things up. I invited change. I stopped wasting time. I found a new way of writing. I found a new kind of love. I felt like a long-limbed Maple in full flush.
As pieces of my former-self scattered with the altering winds of November, I embraced the conversion. I begged for change. But by the end of December, I was stripped bare of all that I once was. I was as simple as a line drawing of a tree on a snowy hill.
In the austere simplicity of my new life, I realized I needed to live simply. Like a tree, all that I truly needed was food, water, and the all-powerful light from above. Without these things, I realized I could not thrive. And yet–before the Fall of change—I was living life on much less. Food, wine, and work was all that sustained me. Water and light were an occasional luxury. My roots were never tended.
But now, all of that has changed.
The most significant thing is how much light I have in my life now. And water. For what may be the first time, I seek out nourishment. Food fulfills me, rather than covers or mutes deeper problems. I’ve turned away from the numbing comforts of wine and cocktails and embraced being in the moment fully. I dedicate myself to plugging in, not checking out. I find inspiration everywhere. Now, I shy away from my blog’s stats page and listen to the analytics of my muses.
Everybody is talented, original and has something important to say.
I know. That idea is contradictory to what most people will tell you. Everyone is original? Everyone does have a talent? Yes. Every person does have a story to tell. Granted, some stories are flashier than others (especially if you’re an LA girl who marries a cowboy and moves to the ranch to raise cattle) but that doesn’t mean your life (in a tiny apartment in Paris) isn’t worth writing about.
Making something from nothing is daunting. Sustaining the life of your food blog requires commitment and inspiration. Some people turn to friends for creative encouragement. Others seek inspirational stimulation from a good speech, a well-placed sermon, a great movie, a beautiful piece of art, nature, or a workshop. It’s easy to miss the tiny voice of encouragement inside of you when there are plenty of people around feeding you information that cuts away at your self-confidence.
Don’t believe the voices that tell you that what you do isn’t special. You are.
“Remember these two things: you are talented, and you are original. Be sure of that. I say this because self-trust is one of the very most important things in writing.” –Brenda Ueland, “If You Want to Write”
Some notes on finding your voice:
On your way to figure out who you are, take notes. Show your readers—through words—who you are while you cook, shop, and do the things you enjoy.
Don’t try to write in a style you think WE want to read. Write the way you think.
Avoid easy, superficial or automatic language.
Your words should be true, tested inwardly, and based on something that means something to you.
A writing exercise:
Describe who you are when you go to the farmers market. Remember, it isn’t important that you go to the market. It’s who you are when you’re at the market. What makes you happy, nervous, excited, shut down?
Describe who you are when you go to the grocery store. What’s different about you in this place? Is there something that annoys you about the smell of your market? Does the spice/meat/international aisle freak you out?
Tell us: What inspires you to get honest and tell good stories on your blog?
Sometimes you have to drop off the radar, invest in yourself, and find inspiration to go deeper in your work and life. Maybe that means taking a class, reading a book, studying with a mentor, or attending a conference where you can be surrounded by all sorts of great teachings and insights. Food Blog Camp, a small gathering of some of the food blogging community’s most inspiring leaders, is all of those things in one gorgeous, entertaining, and tropical locale.
Todd and Diane, David Lebovitz, Elise Bauer, Matt Armendariz
For the third year in a row, attendees of the Food Blog Camp are given immediate access to some of the food blogging world’s most talented stars–Matt Armendariz (Matt Bites), Elise Bauer (Simply Recipes), Jaden Hair (Steamy Kitchen), David Lebovitz (David Lebovitz), Adam Pearson (Adam C. Pearson) and Diane Cu and Todd Porter (White on Rice).
This year’s Food Blog Camp event was held in the luxurious Grand Velas Riviera Maya resort in Cancun, Mexico. Infinity pools, gorgeous vistas, heaping bowls full of guacamole, an endless supply of fresh juices, jungle wildlife, and luxury suites (so large I could have moved my entire apartment inside), created an otherworldly feeling that transported imaginations to uncharted places and happy tastebuds. As in past years, the location of the event was key in giving attendees a break in routine so that they could make room for innovative thinking.
Gaby Dalkin (What’s Gaby Cooking)
If you are longing for inspiration to bring your blog or website to the next level, I suggest you follow a few of the following lessons and insights from the Food Blog Camp panelists.
Hunger is a powerful thing. In a country where status and positioning get valued above happiness, shame can be even more powerful. Shame has a way of hardening up like a thousand pound bead of amber that drops through the depths of your heart and deposits itself on the very bottom of you. It’s still there but it can no longer be seen. It’s only until you bring shame to the surface and deal with it, that you can let it go.
Shame can stop you from doing things. It can stop you from admitting to doing something wrong. Or even telling the truth about something you did right. Shame may be the main reason why childhood hunger is such a huge problem. Struggling families with kids feel so much shame they don’t take the help that’s available to them. Often, shame trumps the pain of hunger.
My most recent post about Share Our Strength (an organization looking to eradicate childhood hunger in America) wasn’t as honest as it could have been. I let deadlines take precedence over the need to be honest. I did a little research, quoted a few good stats, and attached a recipe. Infused vodka makes a very nice gift. That’s enough, right?
The thing is, I was afraid to tell the truth. I was once a hungry kid.
I hesitate to write this for fear of hurting anyone in my family. Yes, I was hungry once. No, I wasn’t hungry for long stretches of time. But the pain of being hungry as a child and powerlessness I felt because of it, marked me. Neglect lived everywhere in my childhood home. But nothing affected me as much as the neglect I experienced in the kitchen.
That’s why I’m taking the time to circle back, get humble, and open myself up to the honest truth. Because, in order for me to do the work that I’m supposed to do in service and in writing, I need to be vulnerable and honest in everything I put down on the page.
Luckily, I don’t have lots of memories of being hungry. But one day in particular–the day I tried to get help—sticks with me. It sticks with me because the cry for help was ignored and judged by a trusted neighbor.
There may not be snow on the ground here in Los Angeles but the twinkling lights, lawn ornaments, Christmas trees, and car-top menorahs are a clear indicator that many in this city are celebrating the winter holidays. December rolls around and people all over our country begin planning the many ways to celebrate the joy of the season. But not everyone has the means to fulfill those dreams. Many struggle to find the money to pay the bills and put food on the table.
What’s worse, there are millions of hungry children (two in every ten kids in America) that will slip through the cracks without a meal because of the social stigma surrounding hunger. Many would rather skip a meal than reach out for help. Silent suffering needn’t be the answer.
Share Our Strength, a non-profit dedicated to finding a way to get food to our youngest and neediest citizens, wants to eliminate childhood hunger in America by 2015. Thanks to the efforts of volunteers and supporters, Share Our Strength (SOS) created 4.5 million meals for needy children in 2009.
In hopes of raising awareness about childhood hunger in the US—especially during this holiday season–SOS has asked a handful of food bloggers to participate in an online progressive fundraising dinner. Starting December 6th and ending December 14th, food bloggers like Deliciously Organic, Gluten Free Girl, Devour the World, Ladles and Jellyspoons, Recipe Girl, Tartlette, The Urban Baker, What’s Gaby Cooking, and Hunger Angler Gardener Cook will feature unique recipes (appetizers, drinks, entrees, desserts and side dishes) on their websites to give people great ideas for holiday eating and drinking—while also raising awareness for a really important cause.
Raising a glass and awareness
It was an honor to be asked to participate in this year’s virtual dinner party as a cocktail contributor. I wanted to write about holiday cocktails because I think it’s important to remember that cocktails, like gifts from the heart, don’t need to be over the top to be good. Sometimes, its the simple and thoughtful things that are most appreciated.
With simplicity in mind, I decided to share with you my recipe for a simple infused vodka. Though an infusion does take a little time to bring out the flavors (I recommend about two weeks at least for a good infusion), this recipe for crab-apple-infused vodka is so good it made me re-think my assumptions about vodka. The sweet flavors of the crab apple are delicate at first, but over time the flavors of the crab apple become more substantial. Make no mistake, there is no jolly-rancher green fake apple flavors to be had when you make your own crab apple vodka. As a matter of fact, this crab-apple vodka is so good, it’s the kind of thing you’ll want to make several batches of, just so you can keep some on hand for yourself and give the rest away as gifts.
A house burns down. A loved one dies. A relationship falls apart. A love ends. A lifetime of work comes to a crashing halt. Mother nature chews up homes and spits out splinters. When the bedrock of one’s life is shaken, the structures above it give way.
When everything you knew is no longer valid and life as you knew it is scattered to the wind, what continues to be true? What pieces of your life do you collect up and take with you?
What is it that you hold in your two hands and say “Thank God I have this.”
Maybe that thing you hold is a loved one, a treasured snapshot, a letter, a phone with a loved one on the other end, a piece of art, or a piece of toast handed to you by a friend. Maybe it’s just ashes that’s left, and you’re thankful for the life you still have. Regardless, when all is lost, it is the simple, beautiful things that remain that you give thanks for.
Things turned upside down for me a week ago when I got honest about some difficult things going on in my life. I stood up for myself, got honest, and took a stand for what it is I want.
Then, I my placed my life into a crucible and lit a match.
My life has been re-written a million times in just one week. Up is down. Down is east. Left is right. Day is night. Right is wrong. My structured life with pretty little hospital corners and black and white decisions no longer exists. I live in a world of gray. Now, my pristine bed is unmade, and—the irony isn’t lost on me—the sheets I sleep on are torn from all my tossing and turning.
What remains? Beautiful, profound things. Friendship. Family. Sunlight. A mouthful of food when I’m hungry. Sleep. A snapshot. A journal. A blanket to keep warm. The view from atop a mountain. An air mattress to sleep on. A vegetable stand at the farmers’ market. A slice of blueberry bread. Love.
When all is lost, it becomes a lot easier to see what’s truly important. The frivolous items or ideas I collected up and held close for safekeeping have fallen away. I don’t need those things any more. I give thanks to the true things. My friends. My family. Sunlight on the ocean. Food in my belly. The feel of the sun on my face.
