Fresh Cracked Pepper

I am a 20-something woman from Winnipeg (currently living in Central New York) whose love of food is ever-evolving. Someone called me the human garburator at summer camp which, for all of you non-Canadians, is a fancy word for waste disposal unit. Shameful.

It began as it does for all of us, in the simple gestures of discovering the sensation of taste. I was lucky to grow up with the best personal chef I could ever have asked for, descended from a long line of matriarchal masters of field, kitchen and table. Through their legacy, I was exposed to pierogie making that rolled into the wee hours of the night, cashew cinnamon buns, and of course, weinascht stollen:

My childhood exposure to good food grew ever more inspired and refined through 10 years in the restaurant industry,  Being a server introduced terms like reduction and roux into my vocabulary. It taught me that presentation (as simple as a sprig of rosemary laid across a pile of mashed potatoes) is as important as butter is to toast. Being able to intimately witness people’s enjoyment of food is something that has stuck with me.

I have also been fortunate enough to travel, live and eat in various places, including my ethnically diverse hometown of Winnipeg. It wasn’t until I discovered that I could have Indian food down the street that was as good as it is in India that I became truly grateful.

Eventually my interest in good food became a more consuming passion. I am keenly interested in food as art and as science, as a bearer of culture and as a service, as fuel and as luxury. Food is something we all share, a common need that makes us responsible to one another and to the earth. Food is a vehicle for intimacy, joy, and a better world.

Since moving to Syracuse, I’ve found myself in an increasingly good position to experiment and create.  I started this record to help me keep better track of our favorite edible things, and to share them with all of my dearest experimenters, collaborators and teachers.

In addition to reading food magazines in bed, some more of my not-so-guilty pleasures include biking places other people drive, camping and cooking out of a backpack, loving my invisible cat, pretending I don’t care about running faster, trying to knit stuff, etymology, fermentation, standing on top of mountains in just my hiking boots, reading magazines backwards, being Canadian, yoga, fallen leaves,  surmising what people would be if they were a vegetable, planting seeds, surprising friendships, cheesy inspirational quotes, jumping into things too quickly and then over analyzing them, a good micro-brew, making cards, drinking coffee outside, eating olives out of barrels, the sound of a harmonica, and well-told stories. 

When it comes to me and food, I have one last thing to share. It’s best said in the words of an Arab proverb a friend did in calligraphy for me. We have it up on our fridge and it says

enough is a feast

jen