The Hearts of This Blog

This blog and the forthcoming cookbook/memoir collection has been gestating– or to use a food metaphor– ripening for a few years now.  It all started with Emily. She came to Memoirs Ink as a young intern and English major at UCLA. She didn’t have to do an internship, but she wanted real life writing business experience, so she took the initiative to find one herself by searching that great mecca of all things Craigslist. By the laws of serendipity she found my post. During our whole interview Emily giggled nervously.  I wasn’t sure about her, but I didn’t have a million people applying for my unpaid internship so I hired her. It turned out to be one of the best things I ever did.

She was my first intern ever, and even though I had been an intern once, I still felt somewhat guilty about having what basically equated to a slave. I wanted to do right by her and make sure that she got some good experience and mentorship out of her time with me. So I asked her what her hopes and dreams were. She didn’t know for sure. She knew that she loved food and she loved writing, especially memoir, but she did not want to be a food writer.

I wasn’t sure how to help her with the food part of her dream, so I focused on mentoring her in her writing. But somehow food became part of our work. It would usually start like this.

“Have you ever tried _____?”  Emily might ask randomly about some food or spice or dessert.

“No. What are they?’

“They are so yummy….” Emily would go into an inner world and be having an experience that I couldn’t have. But it got me thinking of my own favorite gustatory pleasure of the week.

Soon we’d both be hungry.

I worked out of a home office, so when we needed to take a break we could easily cook up a snack.  Often these breaks would turn into hours of culinary experimenting. We rolled homemade sushi, we learned how to grind up lemon grass, slathered butter on warm bread, and arranged shrimp on a mound of rice with a moat of curry. Always, before we ate, Emily would have to take a picture. I later learned that she takes pictures of just about everything she eats. Most of the girl’s hard drive is probably pictures of food.

Here is a picture of Emily taking a picture of food.

I have always been a good cook, but becoming a single mother and running a business, I had begun to let my story affect the menu. Emily brought that love of cooking and food back into my life and even enhanced it.  Soon my assignments to her included looking up a recipe for this or that.

Emily brought many great things into my life and to Memoirs Ink.  But sadly, interns move on, and she did. She graduated and moved to New York, despite my pleas to stay. Now at last, years later, I found a way to rope her back in. When I realized Memoirs Ink needed to do a cookbook with stories, I knew Emily had to be part of it. And I am so excited for you to hear her thoughtful, beautiful and delicious ‘voice.’

Another inspiration for this project, besides my stomach, was Rachel.

Rachel and I have a long history of acquaintance, but didn’t become friends until we both divorced and then, through years of regular 144-character updates on Facebook I learned how cool she was. She is witty, observant, and despite the challenges life has handed her, still wide-eyed with wonder at things. Mostly she is wide-eyed at me and the idea factory that is my brain. It is always interesting to see yourself again through another person’s eyes.  I kinda love her.  And as she told me once, kinda=really. Why I asked her to be a part of this project was because I’m amused that she went from wanting to write a book about divorce to wanting to write a cookbook with a paragraph in it that said don’t marry an idiot.

Me and Rachel out to dinner.

Me, I’m just a regular girl who likes to write. I am president of a company called Memoirs Ink. I live in the land of plenty (Los Angeles, California) where I can go to a farmer’s market every day of the week. I grew up eating from my mother’s garden, but didn’t come of age culinarily until I was 20.  I like to make up words (like culinarily), surf, eat beautiful organic food, write, read, ride my bike, and dance around with scarves. I give and receive love through food and physical touch. Even though I live in the city, I will one day own a goat.

Recipe for Felice’s Love

• Healthy yummy meal made with love just for me
• Sunshine
• Warm/Cool Breeze- (in season)

There is nothing so wonderful as someone cooking me a healthy yummy meal and my enjoying it outdoors in nice weather. Hugs optional. Adjust where necessary.