The photos, the stories, the techniques, and of course, the recipes. There is a rush in getting a new cookbook. Ideas and inspiration flood my brain like the water overflowing in my sink full of dirty dishes. I read the book - from the first page to the last page. I want to learn what the author is inspired by, what life at their restaurant or home is like, what ingredients they think are important to have. I get to the last page and feel empowered with new skills and ideas.

An idyllic and romantic relationship forms with the book. I imagine doing nothing but cooking through its entirety, graciously serving it with a casual elegance, matching the beautiful aesthetic of the author’s photos. And while the fantasy of living out the book plays in my head, I’ll maybe cook one or two of my most eager culinary desires out of it.

Then, life happens.

I get busy or lazy or both. (Still not sure how that's possible.) I fall back into my normal habits, which mostly include scrolling the internet to figure out what I’m cooking next. And that new cookbook I couldn’t put down finds a home on the shelf to live out its life with the others. To no fault of their own, they start to fall into obscurity. Hoping one day to be seen again. Hoping for the chance to get splattered and stained. Hoping to make their way back to the forefront of my mind and my kitchen. Now, I understand that books don’t have feelings, but I do tend to feel bad that certain cookbooks have sat long on the shelf, never truly getting their time to shine.

Once in a while, I’ll remember a recipe and I’ll flip back through the pages again. Hooray! It gets a second chance!  For a brief moment, I fall back in love with the book, dreaming of what we can create together. But I’m a creature of habit, and eventually, the book finds its spot back on the shelf.

“Wow,” you might think to yourself. This chick has a weird relationship with inanimate objects. And yes, that is probably a true statement, it does begin to explain the passion and desire I have to be adventurous in the kitchen and feed my friends and family.

While starting a food blog in 2018 feels a bit like opening a frozen yogurt shop in the early 2000’s, I feel that I have finally found an authentic voice and a fun idea.

For each post, I will grab one of my wonderful cookbooks off my bookshelf, flip to a random page, and make whatever recipe I land on. Doesn’t matter if it’s the last recipe I would have willingly made. Even if it’s something I would rather not eat, or I know for a fact my husband will not eat. Every cookbook and recipe should get a chance to shine, and I’m going to do my best to give them that chance.

Do I actually know what I am doing? - Does anyone, really?

Do I have an immaculate and beautiful chef’s kitchen? - You bet I don’t.

Will my husband eat any of the things I make? - Probably not.

Will my adorable dog Rusty try and sneak tastes off the counter - 100%

Will anyone but me find this entertaining? - No idea.

Do I have a great attitude and a curious culinary spirit - Duh.

There seems to be much worse things on the internet these days. So I’m gonna use the little corner that I have now purchased for $20 a year to share something that makes me happy. And hopefully inspire you to find that cookbook you once loved, flip to a page, and cook whatever you land on.