I've always had to wonder how it is that regular people become food critics, columnists, or experts. They are an expert at talking about something everyone has to do to live. Eating. I say, if you do something enough, you have to become an expert eventually. How fabulous for me that this is my attitude. Therefore, Let's have a stab at it.
My mother is mostly Italian in practice. Therefore, the table was always full of delicious Italian food when I was a child. As a 4th generation Italian-American, I am very much a fan of bastardized Italian food. This means everything from almost authentic Italian restaurants to bad delivery pizza. This love of delicious cheese covered carbs spiraled me into learning to cook. Then, I inundated myself with cooking TV. Experiments began. Some successful and some a laughing disaster. My formulas have improved as I've practiced.
Here I'll talk about my many food adventures, misadventures, and binges. In and out of my own kitchen. I love to eat and try new things. To get there requires me to cook most of them. My fiance thinks I'm a genius cook and my mother thinks differently... at least 50% of the time. I've gotten rave reviews from friends. I've gotten rave reviews from people that I don't know (they are the most important). Let's see how it goes from here on out.
I am no chef, but a self proclaimed foodie. I am also not a writer. I'm sure I'll offend English teachers and scholars alike with grammar mistakes and word misusage. We'll see...
Tomorrow, my mother's birthday cupcakes. A new creation, stay tuned.
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