Just the musings of a lost 20-something trying to find her place in the real world, one recipe at a time. She happens to be hopelessly addicted to all things food, whether it be a red ripe tomato on a breezy summer afternoon or a steaming bowl of pho to battle the frigid cold of winter. From Farmer’s Markets to the neighborhood Giant, from New York City to Istanbul, from autumn apple orchards to spring herb gardens, she’s here to share her journey, exploring every nook and cranny of gastronomic curiosity along the way.
My passion for food began in the summer of 2008, after a short trip to Italy. There, I experienced buzzing outdoor bazaars, briny fish markets, and produce in a rainbow of colors. I ate my first ‘real’ cherry (I always believed maraschinos were all there were, sullenly, to look forward to), had my first ‘real’ caprese (piled on top of a fresh-baked baguette, bruschetta-style, no less), and learned that ‘real’ tuna was not limited merely to the smelly stuff in cans (which, let’s be honest, is just a tragic form of cat food for humans).
At 16, it was an eye-opening experience, one long overdo but striking enough to leave an impression. And let me tell you, that impression has stuck with me to this day.
Now, you can find me holed up in my tiny, 2-bedroom English basement, if not studying for GREs and writing up policy briefs, then in my even tinier kitchen, whisk in hand and Kitchen Aid humming. I am, primarily, a baker, but can whip up a mean pot of lentil and sweet potato stew when the occasion calls. Many of my recipes are handed down from friends and family, though most come from online or one of the 80-odd cookbooks on my shelf.
If you catch me in a good mood, I may even feel adventurous enough to try something of my own.
And no worries; you’ll be the first to hear about it.
[Note: I shoot with a Nikon D3000, and my primary lens of choice for food photography is a 35mm F/1.8.]