Tuesday, July 14, 2009


This afternoon, I read an excellent profile of Nora Ephron in the New Yorker in which she referred to herself as a "feeder - not a serious cook". I read that and I instantly thought, Yes! Me, too, Nora. Me, too!

I lurv cooking but I would never refer to myself as a serious cook. Ina Garten. Nigella Lawson. Colonel Saunders. All serious. Me? Not so much.

Not that I don't love food. 'Deed I do. But to me a serious cook is a bit of an effete. They are the types who only use premium olive oils, choose only the finest meats and produce, turn their noses at breads from the grocery store . I am not above eating something that has been dripping from a spit for two days. I once ate a pizza the had fallen off the counter, face down onto the floor. Face down! Not one of my finer moments.

There is nothing more satisfying than sitting at a table burdened with dishes you spent all day preparing and watching as the people fill their plates and mouths. Again. Again. Again.

A feeder's dream come true.

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