a momofuku cookie

I don't consider myself a baker by any means, but part of the reason I wanted to start a food blog was to challenge myself to develop some sort of baking aptitude.

Last week I experienced a really traumatic macaron-making session where i produced 4 cookies out of what should have been a batch of 24. Nevertheless, I felt braver afterwards, and confident that I could tackle a more straightforward cookie.

a jam

When I first moved to New York, I lived off a bag of frozen Ikea meatballs for a really long time. You plunk four or five into a microwavable bowl and in about a minute you have piping hot meatballs begging on their wobbly round knees for a bit of lingonberry jam by the same maker to enrobe them. Sometimes I still crave this pairing but luckily am deterred by the difficulties which a trip to Ikea presents. This makes up the bulk of my adult experience with jam, until a few days ago.

a chili

It is generally true that there isn't any food I don't like. I'll try everything at least once, and usually really like it. What I sometimes don't like are associations of certain foods. In my mind, chili is inextricably linked to "game-day", and entrees at big chain greasy spoons in small, small towns. I also think of pre-mixed spice packets in the quasi-ethnic aisles of large supermarkets, and because I didn't grow up eating chili, I sadly can't attach much nostalgia to it.

Chili, however, is the type of food I love to cook. When made from scratch it

requires a lot of chopping and dicing, stirring and tasting. It's open-ended. It evolves. Making it requires a certain degree of bravery, you have to believe that the ingredients will meld together over two simmery hours on your stove and be brightened by a dollop of sour cream.