I consider myself to be somewhat of a foodie. I do not just like to eat; I really appreciate food. The smells, the textures, the tastes – all of it. I love the work that goes into preparing an amazing meal whether I am doing it myself or it is being done for me. I am fascinated by the fact that a few simple ingredients can turn into something amazing.
For example, last night I combined San Marzano peeled tomatoes, extra virgin olive oil, fresh garlic, Italian seasonings, red chili flakes and salt and created a sauce that is better than anything you would find in a jar, for less money. I then used the sauce for an eggplant parmesan that will make you cry.
It was not always this way. Growing up, I did not think twice about food – I was just happy to have some. No, my love for food came at a much later age. In fact, it started when I was in the most toxic, emotionally abusive relationship of my life. I was dating a man who did not know how to cook, and he ate out every single day. When we started dating, he took me along. Tuesday nights became our date night and I would find myself in a different restaurant almost every week. He was a local boy and he knew all the spots. I am adventurous when it comes to food, so I love to try new things and he seemed to get some pleasure out of introducing these things to me. It was fun.
Those experiences led to a short stint as a restaurant reviewer for a local magazine, then I started writing reviews on my own blog for several years. Those reviews can be found HERE.
When I look back on that relationship, I mostly remember how horrible it was, because it was horrible. During therapy, I was able to work through that trauma and I will admit that sometimes the memories return.
However, as I journey to 56, I am learning to train my mind to find the good in every situation. I never would have discovered my love of food and wine if it had not been for that dumpster fire of a relationship.