Lately I've been noticing the rash of writers who become chefs or take up serious cooking and then write a memoir about it. Of course by now you're probably familiar with Julie & Julia, the cooking experiment that became a movie and a worldwide phenomenon. You may or may not know about The Sharper Your Knife the Less You Cry in which a writer moves to France to become a chef. It's fantastic. Highly recommended. And now comes Apron Anxiety the memoir by Alyssa Shelasky that chronicles this writer's journey to becoming a foodie after dating this well-known reality chef.
Being a writer who is planning to write a book but is currently without a subject I'm starting to wonder if I should take up cooking? And…then I remember that while I adore good food–even consider myself a foodette–since I don't cook–I have no idea what to do with food except to eat it. And I don't enjoy preparing raw ingredients–like at all. The 10 minutes I spend preparing my green smoothie every morning aside–I have no talent at cooking food that people would actually want to eat. Sure, my dog loves everything I cook but then again she's eats anything she finds on the sidewalk so pretty sure she's not a good judge. In fact, it's pretty much a requirement for dating me that you know how to cook well. Or, love of good food and a willingness to eat out every night. Also, I've lived with many chefs in part to get any of their delicious scraps. Given the evidence, or the lack of evidence of my cooking ability, I'm pretty sure writing a memoir about cooking is definitely not a good idea.
Still, memoirs about adventures in the kitchen are popular these days so perhaps I could whip something up (see what I did there?) Here are some prospective titles:
Rosé, Prosecco and Tequila, Oh My!
All The Food My Ex-Boyfriend's Have Cooked
All the Ways I Can Make Toast
So…I'm thinking all of these will be voted down.
Back to dreaming up a new subject for my book.