As so often happens in life, one door closes while another one opens. My last days as a South Floridian are numbered. My last few days as an employed person are drawing to a close. It seems as though all I have time for these days is wrapping…I am wrapping up business at work, wrapping up china at home and wrapping up arrangements for the move. And before I know it, it will be time to unwrap every meticulously packed item in our boxes. Well it only seemed fitting that this blog should be born amidst another new journey in my life.
My name is Merav, and I am an addict. My addiction started long ago, in The Hague to be exact. After school I would rush upstairs to the family room and watch my favourite program, Ready Steady Cook. While my mother putted around in the kitchen below and steady wafts of savoury scents filled my nose, I sat transfixed watching the TV. How did they do it? These chefs were pure genius, able to concoct three or more dishes out of their secret bag of food in all but 20 minutes! From exotic fare to comfort food, nothing foiled these guys. I was hooked. I had to have it. Food. It dawned on me that it was no longer something that was purely a necessity. It was art; beauty, expression, flavour, colour, depth, texture. It was addictive. I began to experiment in the kitchen. Wednesday night, that was my night to shine! The kitchen became my stadium and my family the audience. My mother stood by, dropped jaw and all, to watch her little girl work up a frenzy in the kitchen. No pot or pan was spared, no surface untouched by the various ingredients spilling out of their containers. I was in my element. No longer the picky eater from yesteryear, I was a full-blown foodie now! Credit must be given where credit is due, so I must thank my mother for being the wonderful chef that she is. Dinner at my house was like eating at Epcot center, a different cuisine every night. Mexican, Thai, Japanese, French, Spanish. You name it and she cooked it. My dad is a smashing cook in his own right…to this day I dream about his Israeli salad and French fries. Thanks to my parents my inner cook was always there, it was just buried deep inside and anxiously awaiting it’s debut. From that first meal forward, food has been my high. My name is Merav, and I am an addict.