Admissions Essay

Yes, I had to write an admissions essay in order to become a full-fledged member of the coolest foodie boards on earth: http://forums.egullet.org/ (thank you so much for the tip, Megan!). So, because I'm the wonderful and giving person that I am, I've decided to share my essay. I'm sure none of you would even momentarily entertain the thought that I'm just being lazy by copying and pasting this magnificent essay out of sheer laziness so that I didn't actually have to think up a whole new blog entry. That would just be gauche, wouldn't you agree? (SHUT IT.)

Here it is in all its splendor, including the previously published mayo peanut butter cookie story (oh pipe down- it's a cute story and it won't kill you to read a shortened version of it one more time within the context of this rambling mess of an essay.)

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I am a big, fat foodie. I have loved the smell, taste, look, sound, feel and creation of food, probably since I was born. The distended belly and contented look on my face in all of my baby pictures seem to back this up.

I'm a Jewish only child, and grew up with matzoballs, gefilte fish (oh how I love those gray masses of fish and meal in gelatinous goo!), mamalega (Romanian for: cornmeal mush with ricotta and lots of paprika), mom and dad's chicken noodle soup, Grandma Zelda's chocolate chip cookies, and Grandma Sylvia's Hamentaschen. There was never a chance that I'd turn out thin.

I wanted to cook from the beginning. That damn EZBake oven still goes down as one of the biggest disappointments of my life. Dad taught me how to make a cheese omelet and even bought me my own little red frying pan (which I still have to this day!). Mom taught me how to make crepes (!) when my girl scout troop unanimously decided that crepes were the obvious choice for breakfast on our camping trip. As soon as I could write, I was appointed Thanksgiving Dinner scribe, and took careful, copious notes of how many cans of broth and mushrooms went into the stuffing, the brand of yams and marshmallows used, and of course, how big the bird was each year.

As I grew older, I decided to take cooking into my own hands, perfecting two signature dishes: peanut butter cookies and ambrosia. I would use any excuse to make up a batch of either one. And then came the fateful day when I started out to make peanut butter cookies for my dad on father's day. Halfway through (I didn't understand mise en place at 8 years old) I discovered, to my horror, that we had no eggs. I would not be deterred from my mission. "Eggs, eggs... what else has eggs in it? A-HA! Mayonaise has eggs in it!" And so was born the first ever peanut butter/mayo cookie. (They actually tasted pretty good, although they were very crumbly.)

Then there were all the celebrity chefs I remember watching: Julia Child, Galloping and Frugal Gourmets, and, being from the San Francisco Bay Area, good old Yan. The food network, travel network, PBS (I almost typed PMS. Freudian?), and various food, wine and cooking expos have become part of my husband's and my daily life. My husband is a tuba player and I am a flutist. By the time we get home at night, we found the only thing worth watching was the Food Network. The first time we scrambled to set the VCR to tape an episode of Tony Bourdain's "A Cook's Tour," we knew we were hooked.

People may knock Emeril, but that man single-handedly inspired my husband (a total guy's guy like E) to become a terrific cook. He's taken that inspiration and has become a pro at making the finest sauces for everything from pasta to meat to eggs to vegetables. I have followed in my parental units' footsteps and become a pretty accomplished soup and stew woman, myself. From there, we've developed an insatiable love for all things Mario, Tony Bourdain, Alton Brown, and just making and trying and eating food in general. Being a member of egullet is just the next step in our foodie evolution, and I can't wait to dive right in, get and share some great tips and stories and recipes, and watch how it changes the way I cook and eat.

By the way, the mayo cookies wouldn't be my last odd substitution, nor would it be even close to the strangest thing I've tried eating. From tripe to pig's feet to the unrecognizable thing on the Dim Sum cart that I can't quite figure out, I'll try it. I love food. The distended belly and contented look on my face in all my recent pictures seem to back this up. Alas, there really is no way I'm ever going to be thin.