I have been a student for... a long time. I will finish my nineteenth year of formal education this year. This means two things. One: I am over highlighters. Two: I am underfunded. Why is this relevant? I'm getting there, steady on. I grew up in the home of a Kennedy Democrat who carefully studied Julia Child's The French Chef before becoming a proto-locavore, granola mom. As in actually made granola. In the other corner was my father- Rockefeller Republican with a strong disdain for anything that isn't called potato or beef. So here we stand- steak on Saturdays and every other day versus filet of fish with rice. Not the McDonald's kind- ew.
What does this mean for their progeny? My sister and I like to eat. A lot. Food Network and the Cooking Channel play on a continuous loop at my house and the quality of my day is usually predicated on what I've had to eat. I read chef's memoirs and cookbooks, follow tweets about quinoa, and dream of the day when the nearest Whole Foods isn't a hour drive away. A goal one summer was to learn to cook by cooking our way through Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Coq au vin is not ideal in July, but ah so delicious. We abandoned the effort, but the diametrically opposed viewpoints of my parents led us to two things: the desire to eat, and do it well, and a politically neutral love of The Game. That mystical sport played with crooked sticks and tiny white balls on fields of emerald green. Golf blogs are a dime a dozen and many bloggers have more knowledge than me on The Game. I'll leave them to it.
I grew up on American food, heavily influenced by my family's southern roots, and the aforementioned The French Chef. But I love it all- Tex-Mex, barbecue, Thai, Chinese, German, Japanese, Irish, French, Russian, Indian, and just about anything else you can think of. My budgets and my choices are limited but my curiosity is not.
That brings us to today. Right now, you're on this soon to be cleverly named blog where I plan to describe how a graduate student at a relatively prestigious law school in Virginia (no, not that one) manages to survive small town ingredients, low funds, long library nights, and never ending hunger. I have four knives, two decent pans, and a wandering palate. Gentleman- start your engines.