Guiltless Gourmet

This is a cooking video I put together to apply to the W Network expert search in the food and nutrition category. Not realizing it had to be under 2 minutes in length, I made a 20 minute video which I have been busy hacking down. I would love to add to this video but I can only refine it for now. Let me know what you think!

Local Wine

Horrible intro and extro on this one. Don't know what made me decide to pause so long by the wine bottles and talk like a robot. Will work on that next time.

i thought happiness was only for fools

I don't know how to describe the beauty of this weekend.

I spent Friday night yelling over cheap martinis to a fellow journalism student about our future careers. We laughed, screamed, made passes at our waiter and nearly lost our voices.

Saturday night my boyfriend and I drove out to the suburbs for my cousin's post-wedding party. There, I got to see my mother, who has just returned from France, and a lot of family I haven't seen in a while. This includes my cousin, the beautiful bride, in a stunning strapless dress, glowing beside the love of her life.

I let loose, drank a few too many apple martinis, and danced more than I have in a long time. My boyfriend charmed all the older women, found us many more clients for dinner parties, and reminded me just why I fell for him in the first place.

My mother came home with us and presented me with a bounty from France: my ultimate bread made by an older Scottish gentleman I love dearly, a giant chocolate bar (already gone), a giant lollipop from Duty Free, and a stunning cashmere scarf. Needless to say, she knows me well, and I'm very happy with all of it.

Sunday a friend from school came over and we spent the day filming a cooking video. We started off at Kensington Market, then shot the meal segment in my kitchen. The video is for a contest with the Women's Network, which I'll talk more about when the video is finished...

My mother took off early this morning, a familiar scene, but I will see her again in less than two weeks in California...

Life suddenly feels like an adventure again, and I can't help but feel incredibly happy.


With my aunt Stephanie at the party.

red-handed: killer clique

Apparently a photo of me at 19 was inspiring to portray this:red-handed: killer clique

sensational spaghetti

Clever little video...

i start reading books halfway through

When people ask what I do, I usually pause. Then I try to explain. "I'm a full-time student, in my last year of studying broadcast journalism, I run a private dining company with a chef and do catering events with another company."

And then worse, they usually ask "What do you want to do eventually?" I pause again. The simplest answer is "Food journalism." But the most honest answer is: "Write a guide book, live in Japan, host a food related show, practice yoga in India, run a bed and breakfast, buy and sell property around the world, go to Africa, become a producer, publish a cook book, meet lots of great people, learn to ride a bike, and most importantly own a garden."

I try to keep my answers short and sweet, but lately I find it easier to be honest. The best part is that every time I open up to people they unravel before me. People I hardly know have started telling me about their childhoods, their insecurities, their sex lives, their fears...

"I don't usually tell anybody this..." they say, surprised by the words spilling out of their mouths.

As human beings we all have simple, basic needs: food, shelter, love and sex. But we aren't simple. We have complicated histories, love lives, families, thoughts and emotions.

"How are you?"
"I'm good."

Really?

"What do you want to do with your life?"
"I don't know."

You must have some ideas.

Being honest is difficult. I go through stages where I keep my emotions and opinions locked away inside of me. This continues until I eventually break open, ending up in hysterics, overwhelmed by how strongly I feel, my breath heavy, eyes wet with tears.

Every time I do it's incredibly painful, but when I'm done expressing myself I feel weightless.

I have cried more in the past few months than I have for a very long time. But right now, I feel as if I could fly.

How am I?

Excited about my future, nervous about which direction to take, and happy about where I am in life.

a breath of nostalgia

I go outside and smoke half a cigarette. I inhale deeply, pace the sidewalk, then stub it out.

I don't smoke it for the nicotine, but for a taste of nostalgia. The familiar taste that haunted my nights in Paris. The taste that filled my mouth the first year of university, when I would escape my dorm room to walk the streets of this city, still unfamiliar, cigarette in hand. All I need is a taste.

The past few months have been an emotional roller coaster. I have been struggling to remember what makes me happy, and have been trying to get back to that place inside of myself where I feel good about who I am.

Today I spoke at lengths with three people who have entered my life recently. Three people who listen, share creative thoughts, and make me feel good about everything under my skin. Their voices are a warm embrace when I was starting to convince myself that I was completely alone in this city.

I look up at the sky and see clouds but no stars. An airplane in the distance. My mother is miles away, in a small town in France where the stars shine like diamonds. I ache to be with her, but feel her presence with me, her voice comforting me when I think I'm going to lose my mind. I know she is alone in the house, with similar thoughts as mine, up roaming at odd hours of the night like me. I know she yearns for my presence in the same I yearn for hers. If I close my eyes I can be there with her.

It's strange coming to a time in your life when you have the power to choose what to make of yourself. What to make of your one precious life. It is terrifying and liberating all at once. I want the world, I just need to map out my plan of action.



'Read widely of other experiences in thought and action- stretch to others even though it hurts and strains and would be more comfortable to snuggle back into the comforting cotton wool of blissful ignorance! Hurl yourself at goals above your head and bear the lacerations that come when you slip and make a fool of yourself.'- Sylvia Plath