I'm going to let you in on a little secret - I used to want to be a food blogger. If you have been reading over the past year, you have probably figured out that this did not happen. The reason for this was multi threaded:
Problem 1 - Food bloggers need to be excellent photographers. You can make the most magnificent meal, but if you do not style it, light it and photograph it appealingly, it might as well be a pile of crap. I baked and photographed a number of dishes and uploaded them to some food p0rn rating sites. They never made the cut, mostly due to photography and food styling issues.
Problem 2 - Food blogging is time and labor intensive. In order to post three times a week, I would have to cook and photograph late into the evening on work nights. With a full time job, an hour and a half of commuting each day along with my basic need to cook regular meals and spend some time with my family, there were just not enough hours in a day to accomplish this.
Problem 3 - I'm verbose. Not content to just write a recipe and post a picture, I want to write about it, what it makes me feel, what was happening in my life, the story behind the dish. Again, time consuming and this would have made for really long posts that could be daunting for the reader.
I can honestly say that my inability to make this happen took a little of the wind out of my sails. I lost some of my culinary mojo and confidence for a while. I really felt defeated. However, that was short lived as I am too stupidly optomistic to let it hold me back and I am happy to report that I am starting to get my foodie groove back. But the real bright spot in all of this was, like a gift that I wasn't expecting to get, I ended up with the Diary of a Mad Bathroom.
I am thinking about all of this because January 11 marks my one year anniversary (blogiversary in bloggy parlance) and at this marker in my blogging history, it is clear to me that what began as failure and disappointment became a positive force in my life. It is a clear example of the lemons/lemonade metaphor. It is what I would call a happy failure.
And as if to prove that my culinary mojo is back, this weekend I had a stunningly delicious Caprese salad with pesto and oven roasted tomatoes at a great NY city restaurant and I replicated the taste of that dish the very next day, including every last subtle note of tomato sweetness and pesto richness. So who cares if I can't take its picture? I can still eat the damn thing, and I can write about the experience, and there is so much more joy in that for me than any picture could ever give.