There is enough virtue in the air right now to strangle anyone, and I need a little breathing room. Hence this space. Come on in. I’ve made donuts ….
Well actually I haven’t but wouldn’t that be grand? I hear that nothing much beats fresh-fried homemade cinnamon-sugar cake donuts. I have this on good authority. I don’t have the right friends or family to have ever experienced that particular delight myself but I can dream.
Here in America we’ve managed to get really afraid of food. We either limit it (paleo, my ass) or fetishize it in weird ways. We get all proud of ourselves for what we don’t eat. I know that food has been central to national or tribal (broadly speaking) identity since the proverbial Dawn Of Time℠. It seems like a bad idea to base your identity on what you don’t eat though. I mean, Leviticus did some of that of course but they also invented latkes. And prohibition in the absence of religion or belief seems just … empty.
I am carb-shamed at work. We can all go to a work lunch (ugh) but if you actually eat the food, particularly if that food is bread-based in any way, or has sugar, or you know … tastes good … then it’s a sure sign that you’re low class trash. This is not just women, mind you. It’s the whole gang. I don’t know how they manage to squeeze anything else into their schedules when they’re so busy judging my taste for pineapple fried rice.
The ostensible food lovers aren’t much better. I know someone who drives 4 hours in LA traffic to make a holy pilgrimage for just the right Korean BBQ. When he gets there, I’m not sure he enjoys it that much though. There’s all that instagramming to be done, and feeling superior to people who eat Korean BBQ located within their own area code. Maybe just like what you like and don’t get so exercised about it? She says, getting exercised about it …
I set this blog up (by proxy, thank you proxy!) to have a safe place (lawd: conservative trigger warning) for whatever. It won’t all be food, but I do legitimately love carbs and they figure prominently in my waking brain so there will be a lot of them. If i manage to stop thinking about pastry for a while, there will be other stuff. Probably. My life is pretty censored. So is yours, in all likelihood. It’s not here. Sit down. Have a donut. There’s plenty.