As a prelude to my first post, I must start by acknowledging a few things:
I have wanted to write my own blog for some time now. Unfortunately, school, work and eating, the three primary ingredients in my pre-graduate life, got in the way. Now, I’m about to enter the realm of the Real World as a 22-year old, jobless intern who lives at home. Not to mention, I’m sharing (my) car with my 17-year old brother, am responsible for “keeping my room clean,” and remembering to call if I’m going to be in late. I haven’t been living independently for four years, 5 hours from home (including a semester in Spain in which I was hundreds of miles away, separated by an ocean and a river) and working part-time while enrolled as a full-time student. Nah, that wasn’t me.
On the flip side, I’m preparing most of the day’s meals, usually for my mother, who has no teaching duties in the summer, and my father who works out of an office next to my bedroom. Besides creating my new business card (I’ve decided on “Leah Rovner, PI” – Professional Intern), I’ve come to the conclusion that if there was a time to start blogging, it was now.
The other matter to address is that today I made a major breakthrough: I made the perfect omelet. The equation: 1 egg, 2 egg whites, 1/4 c. diced tomatoes, 3 slices ripe avocado, 1/4 c. diced onions, salt, pepper, basil to garnish. The result: a plump, flavorful piece of slightly browned, healthy traffic light yellow heaven. While this does not seem like a triumph worthy of an culinary merit, I am convinced it was a) the sole conviction I needed to start my own blog, and b) that perhaps, by some standard, I can actually cook.
I was recently told that the test of a true chef is often measured by a simple set of tests. If you correctly dice an onion, you must perform a chiffonade. If you masterfully debone a chicken, you must make the perfect omelette. The chef who told me this said I’d be amazed by how many culinary school graduates fail to do these basic tasks.
You now understand why my morning began so well and how it lead me here, at last, to the writing block.