I bought sox, but not a blender
First off, GO GO WHITE SOX!!
I had a plan for today. I was going to call in sick to work (check) and buy a blender (not check). What a way to spend a fake sick-day, right? well, shoot, I've been going like mad since last June, because of work and that damned trial (which, by the way, isn't even over yet since the judge declined to enter the jury's verdict as judgment), and sometimes you just want a day to do something mundane. Mundane, anyway, is my middle name.
Moreover, I'm about to embark on a new Plan. In short, this one: cooking school. Kendall is my first choice, but it's ass-expensive, so depending on how the financial aid package works out, I may go elsewhere. But off to cooking school I will go, one way or another. And so, let's hear it for kitchen gadgets and cooking tools.
I will tame fire! Play with knives! Butcher carcasses! And... Wear stupid hats! Eat it, bitches!
hah! That was a pun!
What happened to the foreign service, you ask? Truth be told, I only chose that route because it seemed like a good idea at the time. I like traveling, you know, and... well, that's about all I liked about the idea of the foreign service. An old college acquaintance pointed out, too, that the foreign service is full of counts. I can't really argue with that.
So how else to make a living? My sister told me to do some serious soul-searching before choosing my next step. Quite simply, my soul has told me to cook. No, I didn't grow up in a home where my grandma and mom would spend hours cooking in the kitchen, passing on to me gems of wisdom. No, my one-month stint of slicing meat and cheese and tomatoes with a rotary slicer did not inspire to more, umm, intricate heights. It's all self-taught, self-inspired, etc etc. Since leaving college, and forced into cooking for myself, I've realized that A., I can cook pretty well, and B., I really like cooking. And I mean, really, really, really like it.
Cooking for me is an artistic expression, an opportunity to create again and again something to be enjoyed more completely than most other types or art. I mean, imagine walking into the Art Institute and licking American Gothic? I think that would be frowned upon. But a plate of food - the best ones ought to be licked clean, if you ask me. I like working with my hands, and playing with knives, too. And... well, shoot, I could go on, but the point would be the same - I want to cook.
Just tonight, after not buying a blender, I went to a favorite restaurant of mine, Lula for dinner. On Mondays, they have a farm-fresh prix fixe dinner that changes from week to week. A good, tasty dinner can be amazing. Local, seasonal ingredients, excellent preparation, good wine - hell, it doesn't even matter that the restaurant was tortuously crowded and frustratingly loud. I guess what I hope for most is that one day, when I'm cooking somewhere, I'll be able to help make things all right for some dude who didn't get his blender.
-dan
email me
First off, GO GO WHITE SOX!!
I had a plan for today. I was going to call in sick to work (check) and buy a blender (not check). What a way to spend a fake sick-day, right? well, shoot, I've been going like mad since last June, because of work and that damned trial (which, by the way, isn't even over yet since the judge declined to enter the jury's verdict as judgment), and sometimes you just want a day to do something mundane. Mundane, anyway, is my middle name.
Moreover, I'm about to embark on a new Plan. In short, this one: cooking school. Kendall is my first choice, but it's ass-expensive, so depending on how the financial aid package works out, I may go elsewhere. But off to cooking school I will go, one way or another. And so, let's hear it for kitchen gadgets and cooking tools.
I will tame fire! Play with knives! Butcher carcasses! And... Wear stupid hats! Eat it, bitches!
hah! That was a pun!
What happened to the foreign service, you ask? Truth be told, I only chose that route because it seemed like a good idea at the time. I like traveling, you know, and... well, that's about all I liked about the idea of the foreign service. An old college acquaintance pointed out, too, that the foreign service is full of counts. I can't really argue with that.
So how else to make a living? My sister told me to do some serious soul-searching before choosing my next step. Quite simply, my soul has told me to cook. No, I didn't grow up in a home where my grandma and mom would spend hours cooking in the kitchen, passing on to me gems of wisdom. No, my one-month stint of slicing meat and cheese and tomatoes with a rotary slicer did not inspire to more, umm, intricate heights. It's all self-taught, self-inspired, etc etc. Since leaving college, and forced into cooking for myself, I've realized that A., I can cook pretty well, and B., I really like cooking. And I mean, really, really, really like it.
Cooking for me is an artistic expression, an opportunity to create again and again something to be enjoyed more completely than most other types or art. I mean, imagine walking into the Art Institute and licking American Gothic? I think that would be frowned upon. But a plate of food - the best ones ought to be licked clean, if you ask me. I like working with my hands, and playing with knives, too. And... well, shoot, I could go on, but the point would be the same - I want to cook.
Just tonight, after not buying a blender, I went to a favorite restaurant of mine, Lula for dinner. On Mondays, they have a farm-fresh prix fixe dinner that changes from week to week. A good, tasty dinner can be amazing. Local, seasonal ingredients, excellent preparation, good wine - hell, it doesn't even matter that the restaurant was tortuously crowded and frustratingly loud. I guess what I hope for most is that one day, when I'm cooking somewhere, I'll be able to help make things all right for some dude who didn't get his blender.
-dan
email me
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