hello, from the traveling cupcake...

I've started this blog not just for a love of food—of cooking and eating—but out of a fascination with what food represents, what it means and how it makes us feel.

We all know that food is never just food. Wherever we look, food is there in our forever memories and once-upon dreams. Food tells us who we are, how we got here, what we hope for, how we live. Sometimes it keeps us anchored to a certain place. Other times it sends tingling nostalgia down our backs and into the warm center of our bellies.

Sometimes food, it fills us. Other times it leaves us desperately empty. Food is powerful that way.

What do I remember? I remember the first time my father tried to cook me dinner. It was fried pompano. It tasted terrible. But he made it and that made me love him more. I remember the first time I discovered I could chop something up and put it into a hot, oiled pan with seasonings and things would happen to it --it would fill with flavor-- and fall onto a plate aside a set of wooden chopsticks or a ceramic spoon or a metal fork and knife. Presto. A meal. Sometimes it was delicious, other times…not. But I made it. I made it myself. And I felt capable.

How do I feel about food? The anticipation of waiting for a favored meal at a favorite restaurant. The sensation of “I can almost taste it...” If I could smell it, feel the heat of it, hear the sounds of the kitchen, my body would react. An excited tensing forward of the shoulders, a drumming of the fingers, perhaps a little dribble at the corner of the mouth.

But just as (if not more) important than the pleasure of eating is its context. Were you in the company of people whom you loved? Did you share laughs with good friends over a plate of stewed oxtail at that one Cuban place with the great music? Was it over a bowl of cucumber gazpacho that you realized, nope, there would be no second date? Did you dine to celebrate the birth of a sister with whom you fought endlessly as a child but who later became your closest confidante? Did that empty carton of Chunky Monkey say to you, hey loser, get off your butt and go do some stuff? Mine did.

Everywhere you look, there’s food. Wherever you go or hide, you need it. And every single one of us has our own unique way of needing it, wanting it, even fighting it.

This blog explores needs. Desires, also. And fascinations, disappointments and everything in between. Sometimes it will ponder political or ethical questions. Other times it will burst with the emotional, the visceral. Other times it will simply be a declaration. For as complex as food can be, sometimes it’s as simple as the simplest joys could ever be.

-the traveling cupcake