In the name of research, I eat!
I've written about 50,000 words and gained 5 pounds since my retirement in September. It seems that my default, when the muse does not appear, is to hit the kitchen. And while I may be honing my culinary skills in the throes of writer's block, I worry that this whole dream of food writing may just be an excuse to indulge in my favorite past time--eating!
In the name of "research" I study cookie, casserole, pastry, soup and meatball recipes. I am obsessive about my ingredients, which isn't always easy where I live--a beautiful hamlet along the Delaware River that doesn't have a Wegman's or Whole Foods within 15 minutes drive. To me this feels like a veritable "food desert" but thankfully we do have None Such Farms which sells locally-raised meats and poultry and some fine looking fruits and vegetables.
On this dreary,
damp and bone-chilling winter's day I am determined to get by on oatmeal and salad and yogurt and lean meats. Inevitably I will turn to my bookshelf, now streamlined to just a dozen or so cookbooks-- where my favorites, Pati and Lydia and Ina hold treasured space, and I will find something wonderful to make. This is when I'm in my sacred creative zone, and where hopefully the muse will deign to visit and I may not only cook and bake and eat, but perhaps do some writing, too.