This is it, friends, the very beginning of something I’ve been meaning to do for a long while. I have studied up, read much, and realize I am merely another cook adding my particular brand of seasoning to an already savory broth.
But like any writer worth her salt, I have something to say. And it’s just not something that gets said during normal business hours, when I am asking (what I hope are) the intelligent questions, writing about the answers for other people, chipping away at word counts. This, then, is my space, created expressly for the jottings that no one has specifically contracted me to put down.
Turns out I’m not just a writer; I’m a writer who thinks about cooking while writing, and a cook who thinks about writing while cooking. Making food, I’ve discovered, provides me with the same pleasures — and sometimes the same frustrations — that writing does. I’d like to explore that in the obvious way, then: through writing about it.
But before we move on, you should know that the word “zest” is from the French; that it is not only the thin, outer peel of a citrus fruit (esp. lemon) used for flavoring, but that it is anything added to enhance one’s appreciation, and to impart piquancy, interest or charm. And let’s not forget a most delightful insight, that “zest” is also code for keen relish, hearty enjoyment, gusto.
These are the things that will see us through.