To be honest, I often ask myself this question, as I am sure we all do. Sometimes, it's crystal clear -- other times, it's all too vague. That's when I only know what I am not.
One minute I'm a terrific person, a great lover, a fabulous gourmande, a loving, generous and compassionate human being who wouldn't dream of harming a gnat.
Then, the Evil Twin emerges and all bets are off. And why?
Because I am a writer.
I began my formal career (i.e. money exchanged hands) in the 1980s, the culmination of thought, deed, desire and imagination that sprang from a childhood love of reading. The only things that piqued my longings even more than running a chubby finger over the vaunted names on book spines like Doubleday, Grossett & Dunlap, Simon & Schuster, Random House, G.P. Putnam's Sons, and Puffin Books etc. were Romanian Turkish Delight strudel, Cadbury Milk chocolate, Peek Frean Playbox Biscuits, and rounds of Laura Secord fudge.
I began my formal career (i.e. money exchanged hands) in the 1980s, the culmination of thought, deed, desire and imagination that sprang from a childhood love of reading. The only things that piqued my longings even more than running a chubby finger over the vaunted names on book spines like Doubleday, Grossett & Dunlap, Simon & Schuster, Random House, G.P. Putnam's Sons, and Puffin Books etc. were Romanian Turkish Delight strudel, Cadbury Milk chocolate, Peek Frean Playbox Biscuits, and rounds of Laura Secord fudge.
In combination, I reached Nirvana. I decided I wanted to continue to indulge my sweet tooth and grasp for the "sweet spot" that only comes when you write the perfect words in one perfect sentence.
This insatiable quest to arrive on a page with the same music in one's brain is so terribly elusive, it can make you crazy and if you don't believe me, go ahead and try it. Or talk to other writers for confirmation. I'll be listing their blogs soon.
Today, Evil Twin is in the kitchen basting a Thanksgiving turkey. It's the Canadian version of how to stuff both yourself and a bird silly, savour the flavours of orange, red and yellow pumpkins, squashes, sweet potatoes and wine. Canucks are sneaky. We realize that by having such festive feasts so soon into the "eating" season, we can run off our weight, or store our excess fat in plenty of time to avoid food aversion, thereby lunging greedily again at all the goodies of the Christmas, Channukah and Festin de Noël groaning boards.
"Not true," says Evil Twin as I write this. "You know damn well, that in this house we also celebrate American Thanksgiving in November."
She's right. I'm a glutton.
But, she's also cooking and letting me sit here to introduce my neuroses to the world at large.
So--who am I?
A writer with three projects on the go -- more about one of them in my next post, because I want you to be part of it -- who has decided to make her latest journey-times-three public.
Stick with me, please. As Bette Davis once said, "It's going to be a bumpy ride."
But not without its charms. Of course, I say this over high-pitched cackling coming from the kitchen....
Today, Evil Twin is in the kitchen basting a Thanksgiving turkey. It's the Canadian version of how to stuff both yourself and a bird silly, savour the flavours of orange, red and yellow pumpkins, squashes, sweet potatoes and wine. Canucks are sneaky. We realize that by having such festive feasts so soon into the "eating" season, we can run off our weight, or store our excess fat in plenty of time to avoid food aversion, thereby lunging greedily again at all the goodies of the Christmas, Channukah and Festin de Noël groaning boards.
"Not true," says Evil Twin as I write this. "You know damn well, that in this house we also celebrate American Thanksgiving in November."
She's right. I'm a glutton.
But, she's also cooking and letting me sit here to introduce my neuroses to the world at large.
So--who am I?
A writer with three projects on the go -- more about one of them in my next post, because I want you to be part of it -- who has decided to make her latest journey-times-three public.
Stick with me, please. As Bette Davis once said, "It's going to be a bumpy ride."
But not without its charms. Of course, I say this over high-pitched cackling coming from the kitchen....
Oh that turkey looks yummy!
ReplyDelete"Romanian Turkish Delight strudel"? Can one buy this? Attempt to make it? It sounds triple-y sinful...
Does cooking "feed" your writing or does it serve as a refuge or escape from it?
ReplyDeleteI wish I could say I actually make the real version with the stretch dough, but I don't.
ReplyDeleteI make it with a soft cream cheese and flour or sour cream and flour dough and the filling is made with:
jam -- strawberry or seedless raspberry
lots of coconut
walnuts chopped
sugar, cinnamon
raisins, candied cherries, red and green
the dough is rolled flat, and covered with the above combo, and at the edge, I place the sliced Turkish Delight, and then roll the dough like a roly-poly, about four good rolls, then, I slice it free from the rest of the dough still on the table and place more Turkish delight on the edge and start again.
When the baking is done, the whole thing is smothered under a heavy sprinking of icing or confectioner's sugar.
I want some right now but Evil Twin has me on a diet.
Dear Anonymous,
ReplyDeleteHah!! Cooking is like therapy. It's a way to relax, a way to change focus and a way to allow another kind of cooking to happen-in the brain. Dice, dice, chop, think.
Sauté, stir -- voila! You have something tangible to eat and enjoy, and some story aspect solved or illuminated. Or--you simply turn off your conscious mind and just surrender to the senses of the kitchen. Either way, it's a win-win situation.