Test Kitchen; Test Blog?

I have no expectations regarding this blog ... other than expecting it to go pretty poorly. I mean, really - who blogs? Why would anyone want to read about my relatively mundane adventures in the kitchen? I have no answer to that question; however, I miss writing. I miss "creating."

Since leaving academia, my artistic outlets have all but disappeared. Up through high school, I rode horses, played cello, and sang. In college, I sang (way, WAY too much) and even made a brief foray into tap dancing. Now that I'm 25, working 9-to-5, and nesting out of wedlock, I've found my expressive outlets to be relatively limited.

One of the ways in which I've channeled this excess energy ("energy" being a relative term) is through fashion. I find great pleasure in pairing colors, shapes, and textures ... and digging myself into even greater credit card debt. I receive InStyle and Lucky Magazine, and am - like an idiot - a subscriber to various online sale outlets (e.g. Shop It To Me).

The other creative activity I've adopted is cooking. I've always loved eating ("She's a binger - but don't worry, she doesn't purge," said my Mom to my college roommate's aghast mother), but it wasn't until I moved into my own apartment that I really started exploring the art of cooking. I subscribed to Real Simple and Cooking Light and signed up for Boston Organics, a bi-weekly local organic fruit and vegetable delivery service. This in and of itself has had a major influence on my culinary inclinations. Would I have ever bought collard greens or swiss chard at the grocery store? No. Do I now know a half a dozen ways to prepare each? Yes.

Don't get me wrong - I have my limitations: Is the list of ingredients more than a dozen items long? Not happening. Is the prep time in excess of 1 hour? Not so much. Does the recipe even remotely resemble an episode of Good Eats? Oh HELL no. I keep it simple and I keep it honest, but I also try my best to keep it interesting. I could eat pasta or Chinese food takeout every single night of the week, but who knows how long I'd last before dying of scurvy, boredom, or morbid obesity.

My cooking so far has been met with mostly positive results. My boyfriend Matt is a willing - albeit disgruntled - guinea pig; he's convinced it's my life's mission to make him fat. My extended family has been pretty impressed by my contributions to holiday meals; however, you could put almost anything on a table in a room full of Jews and you bet your ever-expanding ass it'll be gone in under 30 minutes.

And so, here I am. Your everyday girl trying to find the pleasure and fun in everyday life. Bear with me, folks; I promise it's nothing you haven't read before.

- M