My friends said I should go see it. My mom thought I'd like it. But when my therapist said Julie Powell reminded him of me, it was time to go see Julie and Julia. I loved this movie. I pretty much pranced out of the theatre. I was so inspired I came home to write this over a piece of cold hawaiinan chicken pizza. Yum.
Cept it's like ten pm and I'm tired. And, Julie, Nora, you ladies can write. Now mom is full of advice on what is worth writing about and what makes a blog timeless (not joking, enjoy the irony) and I'm still figuring out my voice as a writer. The notion of whipping a sauce “into submission” is funny whether or not you cook or even like food. Good writing is good writing. And as much as I love food, good writing is my bread and butter. So dear reader, I am left with a confession: this blog is only superficially about food. It's about nourishment, identity, experimentation; It's about what I can bring to the table.
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