Writing about food

I'm writing about a character who can't cook, but food is central to her world. It's challenging -- not only to write a sympathetic engaging character, but one who lives in the foodie world but does not feel apart.

In that way, Joy is very much like me. But how do I show it?

I don't get the foodie world. Watching the Food Network doesn't make me want to run to the kitchen and break out the pots and pans. Reading recipes only irritates me. Why does any dish need more than five or six ingredients?

I once tried a mac-n-cheese recipe from Pat Conroy's cookbook. Oh my gosh, what a mess. I dirties three pans, per his assembling instructions, never mind the mess on my counter. And I'm not a slob. I kept thinking, "all this for mac-n-cheese?" I never wanted to make it again. I stayed out of the kitchen for a week after that night.

I don't want to cook for cooking sake so don't ask me to add citron to a cake. I'm not going to do it. First, what is citron? Second, how is it going to enhance the chocolate taste I'm baking the cake for in the first place?

Asking me to grate a lemon rind equates to asking me to grate my own nerves.

One friend said to me, "It's like everyone is in on this great secret about food and not telling me."

Exactly!

I've read Molly Wizenberg, Judith Jones, Suzan Colon, and Julia Child memoirs with fascination. What makes their heart zing over recipes?

I love food. I love to eat. And maybe that's why I don't like cooking. Because I want to EAT what I've cooked. Weight and I are not friends. "It" wants to control me. And don't want "it" to control me.

Yet, I love the aromas of baking cakes, cookies and bread in a warmly lit fall or Christmastime house. It's comforting and homey. But whose going to eat the warm treats I bake?

Still, in the midst of it, I'd rather read or write than stand in the kitchen. I'd rather walk or bike, or frankly, I'm being honest here, I'd rather Drive-thru.

In the midst of my writing and research, I have yet to connect with the heart and love for food as those I've read. God didn't give me that gene. I understand what the writers are saying and I appreciate every fine detail, but my emotions are not moved.

Growing up, I was never fascinated with the kitchen or watching my mom or grandmothers cook. In fact, I avoided the kitchen at all cost fearful they'd put me to work. One cannot cook without dirtying a few pots and pans. I never liked doing dishes either until college. Now I'd rather clean than cook.

Lest you start the violin strings for my hubby, I do cook. I can't afford not to! But cooking must not involve a recipe. If it does, no more than six maybe seven ingredients and nothing that I cannot pronounce. It's just not worth it to me. I'm not "into" it.

I bake. I can make mean chocolate chip-peanut butter chip cookies. I have a few tricks for making a box cake that is yummy. However, I can eat the whole thing myself, so let's not go there.

My can opener is my number one tool and the Rachael Ray knife I use to cut onions. I do love onions.

So, back to my character. There's something about food she does love, something she is longing and looking for, and it will spill out on the pages. . . eventually.

What about you? Do you cook? Do you like to cook? What are your favorite food memories?

Bon Appetit by Sandra Byrd

Please welcome my friend and fellow author Sandra Byrd who's new book is out, available for you to devour!

Bon Appetit

"In this sequel to Let Them Eat Cake, Byrd again entertains with descriptions of delectable food and, this time, with exquisite details of France as well. Foodies will delight in this novel, and anyone who adores romance will warm to the story. It's easy to identify with Lexi's struggles in life, because they mirror so much of what everyone experiences, no matter what their age." Romantic Times Book Club Review

Lexi Stuart is risking it all. Saying au revoir to the security of home, her job, and could-be boyfriend Dan, Lexi embarks on a culinary adventure in France to fulfill her life dream of becoming a pastry chef.

As she settles into her new home in the village of Presque le Chateau to study and work in a local bakery, her optimism meets resistance in the seemingly crusty nature of the people and culture around her.

Determined to gain her footing, she finds a church, meets a new friend, and makes the acquaintance of a child named Celine–as well as Celine's attractive, widowed father, Philippe. As Lexi lives her dream, the only thing she has to do is choose from the array in life's patisser ie display window. Lexi discovers that as she leans more on God the choices become a little clearer– and making them, well, c'est la vie!

Bon Appétit is the sequel to this year's Christy Award finalist, Let Them Eat Cake.

Hungry? Enter to win a gourmet baking basket www.sandrabyrd.com

To purchase book, please visit Amazon.com

Merci!

Just another manic Wednesday

Got up and decided this was my morning to dash through the mall and pick up a few things for the ACFW conference. Black shoes and one of those new blousy tops everyone is wearing.

Yesterday was new-cell-phones-day, always a winner. Spent an hour manually transferring my phone numbers. Ah, a day in the life of...

Dillards was having a sale of sales! Ralph Lauren pants, oh so very, very nice, down from $89.50 to $22.50. Amazing deal. I'm talking, these pants were buttery soft. Side leg pockets, v. hip.

And, it's in the dressing room I'm both proud of my recent workout efforts, and mad at my recent eat-what-I-want 'tude.

Size 12 was too big. Size 8 was just a tad snug. I mean, I looked like I'd gain ten pounds but was in denial. Come on, you've worn those jeans or pants before. "No one will notice how stretched the material is around the crotch area."

Size 10 would be perfect. But, nooo, they didn't have any. I debated, and debated. They were so comfortable. But, if I get the 12s, I'll grow to fit into them. If I buy the 8s, no guarantee I'll ever get to wear them. Let's face it, these are the times we live in.

I dial up my sister. "What do I do?"

"Lose five pounds."

"No, duh, Sherlock. But can't do that in the next five minutes. Do I go with 12s or hope to fit the 8s."

"How are you doing losing weight."

"Holding steady."

"Definitely don't get the 12s."

"Right." I knew that.

"And you may never wear the 8s."

"I know, I know, but for $22.50, it's almost worth it."

"No, forget it. Lose five pounds first. It's a two week commitment."

"Two weeks? I'm not sure I have it in me."

"Don't buy the pants."

Fine, but I did find Tommy Hilfiger jeans for $14.50. In my size, thank you. Nevertheless, I can see it's time to lose those pesky final fifteen lbs. Talking about it isn't doing much good.

This portion of my shopping experience came after taking Sarah on a long drive today. We had fun. The Lord had me sing over her. She melted. As we're coming home, I happen to check the gas gauge and noticed, "Hmm, a bit low."

I turn the corner and the car dies. Right in front of a gas station. As it turns out, the gauge isn't accurate. We ran out of gas.

How amazing. I know God was with us. If we'd ran out of gas on the drive, or going over the causeway... yikes. I would not have been a happy camper.

Coming home, stopped at the Jiffy for a Diet Coke. Was in line behind a woman buying two, 2-litres of Coke, milk, white bread, a Butterfinger, and a packet of chocolate donuts.

Now, I don't know if it was all for her, but I thought how easily we get trapped into food habits. Diet Coke is for me. I admit. While the woman might be uncomfortable with her weight from time to time, I'm sure she doesn't feel she's eating all the much.

I know that's my issue. So it's only a few fifteen or twenty pounds. To lose it, I have to change, a lot. I'm boosting the working out and weight lifting, but, um, can I keep my chips and french fries?

See, we all have our thing. We cannot judge. Just pray for one another.

Oh, got a really cute top! I'm too cute today! ;)

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