Sunday, September 18, 2011
Looks like chef pants, doesn't it? Well, before the chili pepper and goldfish and cupcake chef pants got so popular. I mean the old checkered kind.
There was a time back in the '90s when I was so self-absorbed about cooking, I found myself wanting a chef's jacket. Nothing outrageous, just a white double-breasted deal. I even checked them out in catalogs, but sanity prevailed. When would I ever wear the thing? Certainly not for company. And I do just fine in an apron, so it would be a shame to dirty it up in the humble duty of spaghetti sauce. Yeah, sanity prevailed.
This was all before blogging. I didn't know about other "normal" people's obsessions. I just thought I was the smartest foodist in town. I read all the right magazines, I shopped for the best equipment, I knew where to buy ingredients.
I would be the first to admit I'm not an ambitious cook. I would also admit that sometimes supper is Doritos and cottage cheese.
Then food blogs arose! I didn't get in on it as early as some of my favorite writers, but by early 2005 I was yapping my mouth about what I eat, on the Internet. I actually thought I had something to say. In some cases, maybe I did. What a great outlet for the self-absorbed.
But the good thing was reading the other blogs. Ones that could really teach you something, and could entertain. Fabulous photography, too.
There are middlebrow blogs, as well, some of them very popular. I don't think any of us are in competition with one another (except maybe for ad revenue).
I look at some of my early posts, and I see that I was a bit avant-garde on some topics. I was into Sandor Katz and fermentation before most of you, believe me. I was growing my own vegetable garden before that became the hot, hipster DIY fad. But that sounds competitive, and I don't mean it that way.
I'm just saying I actually did have something to say. And I've never made a penny off it.
But with the boom of intelligent food blogs (some of them now idle, sadly), I began to question my own showoffiness. Who wants to hear about an egg I scrambled, even if I am the best egg scrambler in the world? (I could tell you how. Maybe I will someday.)
Those checkered pants in the photo? They're pajamas.
Posted by cookiecrumb at 1:51 PM