The title that's opening this crazy fancy blog would make a lot more sense with audio. It comes from my mom. Which she only said this way one time, and mostly out of anger and frustration toward me. Here's the scene: a sweltering hot July moving day. Whilst Jeffrey and I were mixing ginger ale and whiskey (the best help any friend can provide on moving day), my mom was slaving away upstairs, cleaning plastic horizontal blinds that I had planned on throwing away after she left. Jeffrey comes in the house and is greeted by mom with, "oh, hello jeffrey". An infamous phrase is born. Boring story without vocal inflection, sorry.
I've managed internet anonymity for a long time now. I obsessively read cooking blogs and have basically sold my soul to Martha. I love cooking and creating and sharing what comes of it with my loved ones (however, most of the time with my loved one).
This blog was inspired by a rather successful moment in the kitchen, in other words, a good cooking day. In absolutely no way are they all like that. I spill stuff. I misjudge the size of bakingware I need and have to transfer a soggy pot pie to a smaller baking dish. The pizza dough gets stuck to the cutting board. I cut the mold off cheese. The list can go on.
I've always been in awe of all things Martha Stewart. A tragic day baking a Martha pie recipe led me to a simple realization. After swearing at Martha and waving my middle fingers at my watery mess of a coconut cream pie, this happened: Martha Stewart is my kitchen mom. Just like my real mom, I want to please her and do awesome stuff to make her proud. And when I fail, it feels awful. Kitchen contender? Totally. It's like a boxing ring in there sometimes. Emotional things happen, revelations occur and f-bombs are thrown. In the midst of all of it, I always feel like a winner when I get to share the pile of food I've mixed and cut and baked with people that I care about. Cliché but very true.
