Once Upon a Thyme
I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately about my future (and by lately I mean, for the past year and by a lot I mean it occupies my thoughts for about 90% of my waking hours and about 50% of my dreams). I think back to the fall, when I first started blogging, when I first fall back into love with writing, and how excited I was when I started to brainstorm ways I could incorporate it into my future career. When it dawned on me that food writing in particular might be the perfect fit (as I think about food probably way too much than I should/is normal/healthy), I immediately immersed myself into the foodie world, created my twitter account, sent out a plethora of emails and took on a new alias, la femme fraîche, with a new blog host, and brand new site.
Ever since then, blogging has taken on a totally different light for me. If you look back at my old blog site LiLi’s Dairy, which I still re-visit and update on occasion, you’ll know exactly what I mean. Back then blogging was therapeutic to me, a place to vent, to free up my thought-clogged mind every once in a while, to get a second opinion, to look for advice….to finally free myself from the restrictions of essays and formal papers that had plagued me in the past…to finally free my passion to write the way writing is supposed to be done…freely, that is. I never needed a reason to write a blog, my entries did have to include my poor attempts at photography courtesy of certain old and battered Canon point and shoots. When I had an inspirational idea or an experienced something thought-provoking, I wrote about it. Now that I have somewhat limited myself to a genre, I feel restricted again. I feel like I’m forcing myself to post about every enjoyable food experience I have, and although those experiences hold special places in my heart, sometimes I feel like I’m just posting to post, that these thoughts are somewhat irrelevant…and who wants to be irrelevant?
Over these past few months, I’ve been asked more than once what I want my focus to be when it comes to my writing/research style. When I think about how to answer, few things flash in my mind: an image of a young girl with wide eyes an a stool to see over the stove top, home cooking, tradition, family, memories, rustic dishes with raw and natural ingredients, sharing
plates, cozy entertaining, ancient outdoor grills, eating with your hands, my parents, my grandparents, Europe circa 50 years ago…Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the skill and talent that has developed over years, the artistic qualities of food that’s been essentially painted onto a plate, the creativity that is needed to infuse bacon into ice cream (and actually make it taste good). But at the end of the day, I am a girl of simplicity. More importantly, I am a young girl at heart, who simply craves a story, whose curiosity leads to too many questions.
So if my blog name does not pop up on your subscription feed as often as most other food bloggers out there, it is not because my interest in this pursuit is beginning to wane. And it is not because I have decided to deny myself indulgences in order to feel good in the bikini I’ll have to sport on my impending trip to Sicily. It is only because a good enough tale has not yet crossed my path, that I have no insights to share with you, no new experimentation in the kitchen….and simply put, since my skills both with a camera and with a stove top don’t really warrant your time the way that many of the other talented home cooks out there do.
I promise to keep my eyes peeled and my ears perked for an interesting tale to share with you all. But until then, I anxious await the history I will find in my adventures in Europe. And, thanks to MS and her technological tools that will grant me access to my blogging addiction in L-Town, my English discoveries will come to you fraîche from the press. Unfortunately, diving into the world of the cucina povera may mean a delay in updates, but fret not, la journal will be held close at all times…