Writing on adventures of an omnomnomnivore in NYC

Moving Notice

Mon, 03 Mar 2014 08:03:46 -0500

After four lovely years at WordPress.com, I’ve decided to move my content to a new domain: (Thanks ICANN for releasing those new top-level domains!)

I’ve implemented a 301 site redirect, so visitors from the web will be automatically sent to the new site, but if you follow this blog via RSS or email, please update your subscriptions and bookmarks to the new location.

And remember, pans pulled out of the oven are hotter than they appear.

Myself in Notes, 2014

Sun, 05 Jan 2014 18:27:20 -0500

This list was inspired by Lorraine Hansberry’s series of birthday notes, written annually from when she was 23 to 33. You can see these candid, intimate glimpses of her life on display at the Brooklyn Museum until March 16th.

I love:
The Park Slope Food Coop
My office “family”
Learning obscure skills (blacksmithing)
Traveling to foreign countries
Efficiency (though not at the cost of human relationships)
Handwritten letters, and making time to write them
Carbs: bagels, pizza, pasta, rice, beer
Biking year-round
Lucky Peach
Sherlock Holmes (BBC)
Being fit
Being alone
Sleeping on the floor
Brooklyn

Thesis, or Reasons to Stay Late at the Office on Friday Night

Fri, 08 Apr 2011 18:25:28 -0400

Lately, all my writing energy has been devoted to working on this damn thesis, due on May 6th. I just want to get the thing written and turned in, so that I can move on with other projects.

Already, I’ve had to trim lots of interesting material that isn’t entirely relevant out of fear that this will turn into a book. Only a select few of you will find this topic totally absorbing, but I’ll post a tentative abstract here to ward off the inevitable questions.

Why I’m Never Going to Make It as a Writer

Fri, 04 Mar 2011 06:15:30 -0500

Corby Kummer, august senior editor for the Atlantic and one of my all-time idols, thinks my writing is shit.

Fine, he didn’t say it exactly like that.

Kummer was teaching a weeklong writing workshop, and everyone had submitted second drafts of essays on food. One by one, he whisked us into the hallway for individual conferences, then periodically returned to give comments to the entire group. All day, I had a nagging feeling that something was wrong. Why wasn’t my piece being read out loud to the class? Why was it at the bottom of the pile?

Internships & Books: Putting My Pen Where My Mouth Is

Tue, 25 Jan 2011 19:21:11 -0500

Photo: E. Bennett

It’s internship season here at the University of Gastronomic Sciences, and everyone is abuzz with plans for the near-future and exit strategies post-graduation. Our last classes will take place on March 4th, at which point we will each set off on two-month long internships of our own design. These can take place anywhere in the world (though you have to fund your own food and housing), and can take a variety of forms, from independent research to a structured corporate program. At the end of the two months, we must turn in a thesis, which is usually (but not always) related to your experiences on internship. Graduation is set for May 13th, and then we officially become UNISG alumni.

Freshly Pressed: One Night Stand or the Gift That Keeps Giving?

Fri, 20 Aug 2010 22:29:33 -0400

Two Fridays ago around 5 pm (11 am EST), I noticed a slew of comments on my latest blog post on hiking the Männlichen summit. Not that I haven’t been getting occasional comments all along, but the majority are from people I know personally, and the spike in external commentators was unusual. I scratched my head over what could be inspiring the bump in traffic, then scrutinized my blog stats to find that WordPress.com was sending referrals my way faster than a time-strapped doctor. Sure enough, when I checked the WordPress landing page, there I was, featured in the top-right corner under “Freshly Pressed” blogs.

On Food Writing

Wed, 09 Jun 2010 16:49:29 -0400

Before you ask, no this isn’t a photo of me, it’s the daughter of a family friend, picking Asian pears in the orchard.

“People ask me: Why do you write about food, and eating and drinking? Why don’t you write about the struggle for power and security, and about love, the way others do?

They ask it accusingly, as if I were somehow gross, unfaithful to the honor of my craft.