Six years (and nine days) ago today, I hit publish for the first time. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I wasn't familiar with the world of blogging. The number of blogs I'd even seen could be counted on one hand. I'd only recently left the restaurant world and gotten the internet at home, which meant I no longer had to shlep to the library with three young kids in tow in order to connect with the modern world.
The very first recipe I shared was for Manhattan Clam Chowder. I wrote a short, two sentence introduction proclaiming how much I loved soup. The sentiment holds true today, but I like to think I've come a long way since I those days in my tiny kitchen, snapping photos under artificial light with my little pink camera. I like to think that culinary school, an appreticeship, and working everywhere from fine dining restaurants to university test kitchens reinforced my cooking and recipe development chops, but my delivery left a lot to be desired.
I'd always enjoyed writing, but I rarely had the patience to do it well. Like many, I had teachers and professors who told me I had talent. But if I'm being honest with myself, I was just too lazy to do anything about it. The past six years has helped me develop the patience to sit down, form complete ideas, and actually write. I'm not saying it comes easy now, just that I've learned to enjoy and appreciate the process—and the end result, when it comes out as planned.
