Monday, April 25, 2011
She Returns Brand New
I was talking with my friend Megan the other day about change. How life can quickly shift from what you thought you knew to an entirely new way of thinking and being, and how sometimes (at least for me) it takes awhile to catch up, to feel grounded again.
I've experienced two such shifts this spring. One came with the publication of An Extravagant Hunger. Suddenly I was a published author. There was a physical book to hold and to read. I found it propped up in bookstores where I'd never been. I signed copies for strangers and friends. I was on the radio and in the paper.
For a girl who spends most days in yoga clothes and rarely leaves the house before 4PM, it was a little overwhelming and I wilted with anxiety. One night, Sean cut into a chicken breast and found it translucently pink. Another night the salmon morphed, mid-bite, from oven roasted to tartare. I served a meal so spectacularly confused, I heard myself utter the following: "I forgot the cheese would melt."
But meanwhile, despite all the mania, as the days passed I felt myself growing -- dare I say blooming-- and I loved it.
The other game-changer came just before the book was released. Valentine's Day night, as chronicled here, was special for all the stereotypes it embraced: romantic love, the power of good food and drink, the giddiness that can come from devoting time to your love.
I've always been fond of Valentine's Day: the pink and the red, the festooned hearts, the flowers. Now it will be special for another reason, too. On Valentine's Day, Sean asked me to be his bride. And even though I apparently didn't say yes out loud, I said yes.
So maybe that explains why it has been so quiet around here. Things have been busy, and different, and I'm struggling a bit to keep up.
In the past I have gravitated to this space to share both my thoughts and the food I love. I don't write recipes, but I do cook and bake a lot. I like to think that Poetic Appetite as a place to share what I've made and loved -- much like I'd tell a good friend about an amazing dinner made from pantry basics, or share a easy and delicious dessert.
So I'm beginning again here, and I'm excited to see what happens. It may be exactly the same or entirely different. I can't tell you what might happen next, but I imagine it will be good.