On The Road-- Foodwise

Cooking. I never appreciated it until I didn't have it anymore. (Yes, this is related to touring)

I've never really done enough cooking. In high school I was always too busy. When I came back from college the first summer, I tried cooking a few things, like vegetarian gyoza for my family and baked cinnamon apple crisp at Christmas-- but I've never really gotten to bake, or cook--or, for that matter, sautee, grill, fry, whisk, what have you-- as much as I'd really like to.

In fact, when I suggested to my boyfriend that I was interested in cooking more when I had an actual kitchen, he laughed and said "You? You could live off pop-tarts and easy mac. That's like, all you eat."

Well, this was partially true. But not any more!

Something inside of me has snapped, and I know what brought it on.

On tour, you never really get the opportunity to make food for yourself, unless, like my roommate, you buy an electric skillet and get as many vegetables as you can whenever there is a grocery store near the hotel. Our meals are essentially planned for us: on long driving days, we rush off the bus for a quick lunch break, which usually means the nearest fast food option available. Around showtime, a group of us will sometimes go to a restaurant (if we have time) and try for something dirt cheap (acting ain't easy) and hopefully alcohol. (Not me though. Except in Canada. Woot!) The only time I've ever ordered room service was yesterday and today, when I had a bowl of vegetable soup brought up because I am sick and the nearest food alternative is a mile away in freezing rain.

Thus, touring has increased my appetite for: cooking.

It started with the food blogs.

Oh, the glorious, glorious food blogs. Pages of brilliant photography, laid out with instructions, peppered with witty stories about their creation and preparation... I love, love, love food blogs.

I tend to do this to myself. When there is no viable option for a good meal-- such as when I am unable to eat solid food after wisdom teeth, or if, like now, I'm stuck in a hotel room with nothing but cheap complimentary tea bags and a half empty packet of ramen-- I will go on the internet and TORTURE myself with images of beautifully prepared and seemingly delicious food stuffs.

So that's a hard thing about tour. It's hard to eat right. Luckily, I seem to have taken the route of avoiding fast food (except Taco Bell. I friggin' love Taco Bell.) and overall eating much less than I usually do in New York. Which is good, 'cause, along with the hardcore dancing in that blasted jitterbug number, I feel I may have actually lost a couple of pounds... but I digress.


My roommate is marrying her British boyfriend this spring once tour concludes. And the biggest difference between the English and the American is, she says, the English don't care about food, and find it incredibly humorous how dramatic Americans are about food; they think the world "delicious" is absurd. But we are dramatic about it-- We're passionate about the Food Network, we obsess over food for big events-- and the British don't care as long as there's booze somewhere.

But food is important. And awesome. I digress yet again.

So, when I get back, I'm gonna COOK.

I think I'll start with vodka cream pasta and garlic hasselback potatoes and maybe spiced poached cinnamon pears wrapped in pastry.

Domestic? A little. But I don't have to be feminist when I just want to make something delicious.


**This post may or may not have been influenced by the fact that it is 11 pm, I am starving, and I've just streamed Julie & Julia on megavideo. And my god, does that stuff look good. Mom, can I have a cookbook for Christmas? =)