Many of you have read my laments about my lack of culinary skills on this blog…I have proudly proclaimed on more than one occasion that I’m not a foodie.
However, last week, while visiting family, in idle conversation, they told me I was “getting foodie-ish.” I made that term up, because they said something else that I can’t remember the specifics of, but whatever. My blog, my made up words. Back to the story – this was a total surprise, because my sister-in-law makes killer cupcakes and my brother grills things really well, and well…I was a little stunned. I blinked, laughed, and asked for further evidence of this craziness.
Their reply in two words: Kale chips.
Now, that struck me as really funny, since it took me 4 times to figure out how to make kale chips that didn’t suck, but then I mentioned I’d recently made a carrot cake with real carrots in it, and they both gave me pointed looks as if to say “see?”
It occurs to me that it’s all relative. Living in Fayetteville, Arkansas, for some reason, EVERYONE I associated with were culinary geniuses. Farmers market junkies all, they cooked with quinoa and bok choy while also being able to bust out a killer biscuits and gravy, and I felt totally, completely inadequate. However, once removed from that kind of pressure, my little culinary victories became a little more impressive, apparently.
This is good advice for anyone doing anything, basically. If you are surrounded by experts all day long, and you’re not one, you’re going to feel like you don’t stack up. But to some, your bit of knowledge and skill may be pretty cool. Arts marketers, take note of this phenomenon; it’s why “we’re the best, most artistically amazing and professional and awesome and trained and reviewed by smart people” marketing strategies often don’t work.
Everything and a Racehorse 