A Homemade Life

As a journalism student who is spends a good amount of time analyzing books, summarizing content and articulating thoughts on content somewhat irrelevant to me, I find myself trying to do the same thing in my free time, but about food.  I recently finished A Homemade Life by Molly Wizenberg, the creator of Orangette.  She is an inspiration to me not only for her cooking and writing abilities, but mostly her ability to confidently articulate her perspective on food, something I'm striving to do.  Her book demonstrates her perspective on food, and it is one that centers around her personal kitchen, and her family.  She shares personal stories that range from her first heartbreak from a boy in France, to her father's death to a new found love of bananas, all the way to her blog that led her to her husband; all equipped with relating recipes.  Food was important in her life growing up, but I don't think it was something she realized to be as important as it was.  Making prunes at midnight with her father was a normal occasion, and she didn't realize it was something worth writing about until later in her life.  After reading about her childhood, her experiences in France and her many personal instances with food, I can't help but reflect on my own perspective on food and how it has been shaped throughout my life thus far.

By perspective on food, I mean the way one eats, thinks and talks about food.  For some, food is something that comes three times a day, or maybe even less, or in the form of a power bar and between a busy life. For others, it is what they think about when they wake up and what they think about when they go to bed.  I believe I am one of those people of the latter.  But it has not always been this way.  I believe the way we look at food is shaped in our childhood and how it has acted as a part in our lives throughout birthdays, holidays, and the everyday.  I often wish I had stories like Molly.  She has the kind of "homemade" stories you only read about (literally) like her mother's famous blueberry-raspberry pound cake or her father's famous potato salad.  She grew up in a house full of cooks and without any kind of artificial food.  I wish I could say the same, but that is just not the childhood I had.  But my parents did their best with what they had and what they knew.  There was absolutely no sugary cereal allowed in the house, but we had a fully stocked pantry of Kraft mac 'n cheese (an absolute childhood favorite).  My mom didn't want us to eat fast food, but allowed it for long car rides to Wisconsin or after visits to the Doctor's office (there was a McDonald's right next door).  My mother NEVER succumbed to any kind of TV dinner or microwaveable dinner, in fact we never even had a microwave, but we did always have Jack's frozen pizza on hand.  (Well, as a side note, Jack's originated in the tiny town in Wisconsin where my dad is from, Little Chute, and my parents always love to show me the tiny building where it started and then the six mansions in Little Chute where the employees live after Kraft bought it.  A little bit of small town pride, I guess.)  I have to admit, I was a picky eater.  I have to hand it to my mom for putting up with my fits every night around 5:30 when she would tell me what was for dinner and I would cry because she told me it was either what she was making, or nothing at all.  Don't get me wrong, I've always loved to eat.  Not to say I loved food per say, but from a young age I did know I preferred white sauce over red sauce when it came to pasta, and that tomato soup was best when used as a dip for a grilled cheese sandwich.

To sum it up, I would say, me-picky, but loved to eat, brother-happy with anything containing meat but absolutely NO salads, dad- happy if its cheap and filling; always strapped with coupons, mom- an undercover adventurous foodie stuck in a house full of white bread lovers.  It's a good thing I learned to love food so my mom and I can cook food so good, my dad doesn't care how much the prosciutto costs, and my brother married a woman who has taught him to eat meals containing leaves.  And even more thankfully, my mother managed to phase out white bread by the time I was in middle school, and my family learned to love whole wheat.  Also, to give my mom some more credit, I ALWAYS knew any kind of cookie, cake or brownie was to be made from scratch, not a box.

I could write on and on about the way food played a part in my childhood, and I likely will, but I want to save that for a later date.  Molly's book really helped me understand how to articulate a relationship with food beyond simply raving how good something tastes or how fun it was to make.  She did not go to culinary school, or do any kind of serious study of food, but she learned about food through the threads of her everyday life, from cooking with her parents to living in France. She shares various recipes that really aren't even recipes, rather ingredients to assemble in order to create something delicious.  She is not pretentious about food, but rather has a genuine passion for it, and this comes through in her writing.  I feel/worry there are so many rules to being a foodie.  Like, if you enjoy Bisquick pancakes you CLEARLY know nothing about pancakes.  Or, there is no room for Kraft cheese singles or Velveeta cheese in a real foodie's kitchen!  Let's be honest, there is no better cheese dip than Velveeta and salsa, and Kraft singles really do melt nicely for a toasted cheese sandwich.  The point is, there are no rules when it comes to a relationship with food because everyone's is different.  Molly writes about food in an approachable way where it is perfectly acceptable to enjoy Bisquick pancakes, because really, they do taste so good.


Sure, we are not able to travel to France as children and enjoy pain au chocolat, and we don't all have famous grandmother recipes passed on for generations, but we each have our own homemade perspective on food that is unique to us.  We remember the food we brought to school for lunch, the special meal eaten only at our birthday and of course, Thanksgiving.  And these memories are all for better, or for worse.  The best thing about that is, it can, and will, always be changing.  I often forget how young I am and how much I still have to learn about food and life, but I am excited I've found this kind of passion at such a young age, even if it has started much younger for others.  I now have the rest of my life to try new foods, cook new dishes and travel to new places.  I can't say I would have the same excitement or eagerness to explore food if it was something ingrained into me my whole life.  Molly's book has inspired me to continue reading and writing about food.  Her book taught me ways to intertwine personal stories with food, and how to write about food in an interesting way.  Right after I finished her book, I hopped on Amazon and purchased three new books that are currently on my reading queue.

Jeffrey Steingarten's The Man Who Ate Everything
The Best Food Writing of 2010
Dianne Jacob's Will Write for Food

As always, I'd love to hear any suggestions about the realm of food literature.  Well, or just food for that matter.