I love Top Chef. It is the only show that I really watch anymore and truth be told, I'm not entirely sure why. Top Chef combines two things that don't really sit well with me, food and cooking. If you read a blog posting I created some months ago, then you will be keenly aware of my predilection towards what nourishes me. While I have been blaming my lack of ingesting sustenance on our extremely poor situation and the extraordinary stress we've been under (for reasons that shall remain nameless, unfortunately, but just know I may be a little off in the coming weeks), I know that there's a little part of my brain that is frankly happy that eating is something that I do infrequently. In the same token, cooking is something that I don't really get. I have never gotten "it", being putting different kinds of food together to make one big type of food or little bunches of food that marries as well as an any Kardashian nuptial. Granted, I am getting better in the room I used to be scared of and previously used as additional storage (I found this out the hard way as when we moved here, I found a box of my old kitchen wears from my old apartment, almost all had never seen a food particle in their sad lives), I've made a bunch of dinners and even baked goods that DU has raved over (probably simply because he no longer must sustain on Ramen noodles). However, these meals were made with one eye on a recipe card and the other guiding a shaking hand. After evaluating all of the evidence at hand, it seems that I enjoy Top Chef because it is an ethnography for a life that I could never fathom.
The Writing huntress
I hunt. I write. I wear what some consider an unnecessary amount of camouflage face paint.