A new direction


Okay, so here’s the deal:


I am a middle class woman with a nine to five job.
I live in a fairly rural area of Maine; the nearest Whole Foods is an hour away.
I do not have a garden. In fact, I’ve been known to purchase produce from ::gasp:: the supermarket.
I love veal, lobster, and organic heirloom tomatoes as much as the next guy…it’s just that my bank account feels differently.


I am not a chef.
This may seem like a rather obvious statement, but it’s something I need to remind myself. I am tired of feeling intimidated in the kitchen, and inadequate in the foodie blogosphere. I like Skippy peanut butter and Gold Medal flour, and I admit to using prepackaged chicken broth. Just yesterday, I had an intense craving for Ramen. Sure, on occasion I splurge on sopressata and havarti, candied ginger and pine nuts. But on an average day, I use what I have, and what I can afford. I buy local as often as possible, but I’d be lying if I said my pantry isn’t stocked with many generic brands from BJ’s Wholesale Warehouse.
Amaranthian began with no real direction, and ended up food-oriented simply because cooking is a large part of my life, and I love it. But for some reason, as I delved deeper into the blog world, and dutifully followed dozens of other food blogs, my confidence level plummeted dramatically. Those people are a different breed entirely, ones with summer homes, houseguests, backyards brimming with ten varieties of eggplant, and a solid knowledge of the French language. They flutter gracefully from one day to next, while I’m stuck floundering between the lines and dirty dishes, chasing my sanity in bare feet. Their lives flow seamlessly. I, on the other hand, am socially inept, a self-prescribed loner, and have a tendency to choose a bowl of cereal over braised lamb if it means more time to chill on the couch and watch The Dick Van Dyke Show.
I certainly don’t want to stray down the path of Giada and Rachel Ray, all fake smiles and cutting corners, tossing red pepper flakes and garlic into some ground beef and calling it gourmet. I love to cook, and gosh darn it, I am good at it. But it is not my only interest. My heart truly lies in the simple, honest art of writing. It has for as long as I can remember. I created my first book of poetry when I was eight, and have been working on a compilation of poems since I was fifteen. With that said, I believe Amaranthian should be an easy space for life in the kitchen, dotted with memories, photographs and long-winded rants. Maybe even a poem or two tossed in for good measure. Not focused on trying to meet some invisible standard, tethered to a wistful aspiration to be the Next Big Thing.
So, going forward, I will revert to my old standard:
Idealist, stubborn, introvert, eccentric, bookish, random, old-fashioned, conservative, cautious, writer, amateur photographer, baker, home cook, wife, friend, daughter.

0 thoughts on “A new direction

  1. thank you! i feel totally recreated in this post. whew! thank god i get to be you! i mean, me. (wink wink) what a fancy world the blogosphere can be. i wandered over from molly's site, because i thought your picture to be evocative of some things i love: the forties, old movies, romance, gene kelly. how wonderful to see how you've captured so much of your interest in your photo!

  2. Thank you! I am what some might call 'obsessed' with all things forties- the culture, the style, the music, the way of life. It's great to know someone else appreciates it as much as I do. 🙂

  3. The brutal honesty and humble confessions you offer in this post are so refreshing compared to the know it all-be it all types we see so much of within the blogosphere or out for that matter. Prepackaged chicken broth???…Gasp!!! I cooked my way through college and we might have used prepackaged broth in the some of the more premiere restaurants.

    It is my view that readers appreciate your approach as opposed to the stuffy and sometimes opulent mainstream. I applaud you.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *