Seriously....am I really doing this?

I love food. I always have. Raised in the Midwest food was about family gatherings, nutrition after a hard days work, comfort in the most unbelievable cold winters and insanely hot summers. Food was fresh, farm grown, local, seasonal, and comforting. There I go again, using the word comfort. There is nothing like the creamy taste of my Mom's pasta salad, the smell of pork and sauerkraut braising all day for the impending Sunday Family dinner, or the fresh from the field, slathered with butter corn on the cob that could melt away every bad day I had ever had. Food was comfort. Food is comfort.

I read a book sometime back, A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle and it was this book that REALLY began my obsession or love for food, or maybe my love for talking about food. The Author's ability to bring life, vision and depth to food was amazing to me, I could actually taste the food as I read the book, I could see it, feel the textures he described like I was sitting at the table with him. I was hooked. I would love to have the ability to describe foods the way he did, to describe them so well that people could taste it and want more the further into the book they went. 

I have no idea where this will go, what I will do with this blog, in fact I will likely never allow it to become public, or maybe that happens automatically? What is a blog? I guess that is best saved for another post. 

Writing about my love for food and my experiences with food gives me comfort. Comfort. Maybe it will bring comfort to someone else, or make someone laugh incessantly because I have no idea what I am doing. I'm okay with that.

                                                                       Life is a gastronomic affair!  
                                                                                                                      ~Shannon