Hobbit Hole, Here I Come

For years my friends have been telling me to start a food blog. I cook them fairly tasty things and they know I love doing it, and I can do it better than a lot of people, because I do it a lot. Practice makes perfect pizza crust, sheeit.

However, I never really felt like what I'd post about my own cooking would be that interesting to anyone who wasn't filling their stomachs with my finished product. Who the fuck wants to read about my blabbing on about my enchilada sauce (use a fresh Mayflower Poultry whole chicken, spiced, seared, and cooked in San Marzano tomatoes and 3 kinds of chiles)? See what I mean? What good does that do you unless you're stuffing your face with it? I can write recipes on an index card any ol' time.

Now I'm pretty sure I have a somewhat reason to write about how food and cooking in my life are going to change dramatically: I am moving from my current 1100 square foot apartment in Dorchestah to a 350 square foot basement studio in The People's Republic of Cambridge.

A 350 square foot studio apartment WITHOUT A STOVE.

Friends have cringed, wrinkled their brows, or just plain gaped at me when I tell them about this "one small thing" about an otherwise amazing place.

I'm going from a 16 x 14 eat-in kitchen equipped with a killer gas stove, dishwasher, disposal, pantry, copius counter and cabinet space, 3 windows and a back porch to a shiny new kitchen "area" with a small fridge, tabletop dual burners and a countertop convection oven--about the size of a new microwave. Gulp.

Possibly as part of a way to deal with my anxiety over how I'll deal in my new kitchen, I'm gonna chronicle the transition. I must admit though—I am more excited and curious than apprehensive—this will be a challenge for me as a cook, as an eater, and as a hostess.

I'll learn new culinary tricks, ideas, and probably host some major shitshows. I might end up eating a healthier diet—unless I fall into the trap of making meals out of some expensive cheese purchased from Whole Paycheck on my way home (I'm going to pass it EVERY DAY! I MUST institute a once-a-week visit rule, or I will end up large or broke or both). You know what I really think? I'm a good cook. I love food. I'll deal.

Jump down the hobbit hole with me. I promise to feed you something tiny and delectable.