A note from behind the fourth wall
not another recap
After almost three years and 246 posts, we know each other really well and also not at all. Obviously, you know that I love lemons, beets, beans, blueberry baked goods, and anything that arrives on the table as soup. You might not know that I am a carnivorous bread-lover with a culinary kink about incidentally gluten-free and/or vegetarian/vegan food (which stems from my obstinate reaction to any “should” or “can’t”).
I imagine you know that I’ve never been good at following rules or accepting that there are “right” and “wrong” ways to be in this world as long as it doesn't infringe on the freedom and well-being of others. You’ve likely caught on to the fact that I’m a neurodivergent white femme with a Jewish upbringing and no kids. If you’ve been paying attention, you can probably guess that my cabinets are filled with more bowls than plates. You are correct to assume that most of the bowls don’t match. If you think that my Instagram feed is entirely food porn, drag queens, animal videos, and weird witch stuff… you nailed it. If you think I might be gay, welcome to the club.
Nice to meet you! I spend a lot of time thinking about you, what you want, who you are, what you are thinking about, and what to feed you. I started a whole introduction thread because I like knowing that you are real and out there being yourself. I imagine that we are a lot alike in a lot of ways. I’m also ecstatic about the ways that we are entirely different. I want you to be different from me. I spent most of 2020 talking to myself and that led to an awful lot of crying.
When I started this project, I was trying to process events and circumstances that seemed universal and wanted to help you digest them too. The sudden isolation was terrifying and also a very necessary pivot point in my life. I was deeply lonely, but also in a position where the only person I needed to consider was myself. Like a lot of extrovert-femme cooks with a customer service history whose self-worth is largely based on my, I mean their, usefulness to people, the sensation was disorienting.
So, there I was alone in my kitchen, reorienting, reaching inside myself, and asking what I needed. I’m still in the same conversation with myself, three years later. I’m not sure if I’ll ever know the answer, but I know that you all are part of it.
As a writer, my aim has always been to see and be seen, but not in a voyeuristic/exhibitionist way (well, not since my 20s when I thought performing was the same as being known). I believe that we are gaslit all the time by the world we live in. One of the few things more comforting than a casserole is having your experience confirmed and knowing that you aren't alone.
I believe that there is no such thing as normal, that change is the only constant, and that naps are a radical act of resistance. I believe that you have a right to be yourself and to feel safe expressing that self to the world. I think this world has a whole mess of plagues and problems stemming from white supremacy, colonialism, capitalism, and their various systems built to intentionally oppress people of the global majority (read: not white) and any person who doesn’t fit the cis-het binary of monogamy and gender compliance. I know I am complicit in the maintenance of these systems. I read a lot of books and spend a lot of time listening. I still fuck things up all the time. I know you do too.
I don’t do resolutions, but I do believe in intentions. I will publish this newsletter every week. Some chapters will be corny and others will be heartfelt and difficult to write. Sometimes I will be talking to you. Sometimes you will know that I am not doing well and should probably talk to a therapist instead of/in addition to writing that week. I will miss a week or two of writing and feel guilty. Most of you won’t even notice. I intend to strive for perspective. I intend to fuck up less. I’m probably going to continue to forget to eat breakfast.
Whether you see a little bit of yourself in my writing or just like to look at pictures of food, I’m sure glad that you are here.
Love, love, loved this!