mekuno: (Greek) To grow, to lengthen.
And he said, “The kingdom of God is as if a man should scatter seed on the ground. He sleeps and rises night and day, and the seed sprouts and grows; he knows not how. The earth produces by itself, first the blade, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear. But when the grain is ripe, at once he puts in the sickle, because the harvest has come.” (Mark 4:26-29, ESV)
Contact Me: me (at) mekuno (dot) net
Most of what's below is true, but outdated. I now live in Ohio, where I work for Apartment Therapy as the Managing Editor of their site on food, cooking, and nourishment in the home, The Kitchn. (Yes, the lack of the usual "e" bugs me too, but we all have to deal with the domain-squatters as best we can. You have a better idea for a site name that suits The Kitchn? Email me! Really.)
I still go to a little house church, and I still cook a lot. The farmers markets in Ohio are much better than the ones in Florida. Except, of course, they don't have strawberries and tomatoes in February.
Life is good - I am still trying to grow up in the kitchen and see mekuno in my kitchen, my garden, and my heart.
Old and outdated About Me verbiage follows - read at your own risk. ...
Another food weblog! Oh my. There are so many! Why in the world would I start another?
I am not a chef or a professional food writer or even a mother with a houseful of kids to cook for. I'm squarely in what seems to be the most common demographic for food bloggers: twenty-something single woman with time on her hands and a little kitchen to experiment with.
My primary reason for jumping into this oh so well-covered space is that I want to keep track of my own progress and development in the kitchen. See this entry on how and why I realized my occasional cake baking and rice steaming skills were not sufficient unto the time in which I find myself.
I live alone, and cook for myself most of the time. This calls for special adaptation, to cook and shop for one, to find recipes that work for me.
Also, I am part of a little house church with about 20 other people - not including kids, which take it up to about 35. We eat a meal together every week, meeting at 5:00 as we do, and this is one of the most important parts of our "meeting," we all agree heartily. We sit around in a living room, balancing paper plates of spicy Thai curry, Japanese dumplings, herb roasted chicken and Aaron's amazing slow rise bread. Someone always brings a bottle or two of wine, and we eat and talk and catch up on each other's week, with frequent asides to fill a kid's bowl or avert a spill. There are a couple of toddlers who like to cruise the room and check out everyone's plate. There's a feeling of family and home and warmth that's created by eating together.
And then there are about 8 or 9 different nationalities represented - Thai, Japanese, various Latin American countries, India. So the food is varied and rich with different cultural heritages and customs - a literal melting pot, if you will. There are vegetarians and then there are people who prefer meat and not much else. There are picky eaters and there are omnivores. (I will eat just about anything at least once.) Almost everybody, but not all, likes hot and spicy cooking.
I cook often for house church, and I love the chance to try out new things and to find dishes that creatively suit the group. It is good practice to cook for 20+, and it makes a nice change from cooking for one.
This weblog was started in March of '06, but I am gradually seeding it with entries I wrote for another - now defunct. I've picked up a thing or two since I started cooking in earnest, back in 2004, but there's still a lot of dead ends and misadventures, as my injuries and battle scars attest. I don't have a blogroll, but I am instead devoting posts, now and then, to my well-read, dog-eared favorites in blogging and the kitchen.
And in the middle of all this I am trying to learn and to develop new skills. If you will permit me a moment of unabashed sentimentality, I must say that food is close to everyone, and what we do with it seems to affect us at the core more than we realize. That's what I'm finding, anyway.