The Exotic Eating Expedition Begins

Feeling slightly defeated after my high souffle style hopes of speaking with a food writer have been simply deflated by the fork of reality, I suck it up and decide to explore the exotic world of food the best way I know how: by eating.

My fellow foodie roommate Lauren joins me and we navigate our way to a local smokehouse. The building is compact and there lies little room for lines between each small shop stacked side by side. The tourist shops beckon you to come in and spend your dollars on knick-knacks, but today we walk past them, today we eat.

The line is too big for the small deli and you must break through it in order to add yourself to the long wait. But we don't mind; the room whirs with orders and a cash register opening and closing and it's exciting for two first timers. There must be a good reason that people are patient enough to wait, the food must be that good.


I never order the most popular thing on the menu when I go somewhere new, unless it claims to be distinctly different.You can get a turkey sandwich anywhere so why waste your money to try what you already know? In my natural rebellion against food complacency and to satisfy my goal of exploring classic, authentic foods, I go all the way, I order Liver and Onions


I know, I know. Do not shake your head at me, I already know. If you've ever had liver and onions you fall into one of two categories: you love it, or you cringe at the thought of it. I happen to fall into the latter category and yet, gave this relic a chance. Giddy with hopes that this would be the serving that would convert me to a lover of the liver, I couldn't wait to try it.

I inhale the uncooked, meatloaf style slab that comes to me in a basket presented neatly with crackers and all the fixings that apparently go well with this dish, raw white onions included. I smell nothing to be alarmed of, and in her graciousness, Lauren volunteers to photo-document..my first bite experience


The cracker is smeared slightly with mayonnaise, under the liver, and a few slices of onion. I bite cautiously and savor the flavors that greet my palette, welcoming me to their individual expressions; the cracker, salty and dry makes way for the soft spread as it hits just before the crunchy cool onions try to use their sweetness to help me recover from the schmear's punch. Oh my gosh. I should have known better. What else did I expect from liver? Well obviously not much because just as I expected, the familiar taste of iron swarms me and I grimace just in time for a photo. It is not bad per se, I just happen to have an unfortunate aversion to the taste of wild game and rosemary.

I take a second bite hoping that the initial shock over-powered my optimism. But that does me in. I end my experimental dance with the organ then and there. Two bites too many and on my first food experiment I laugh with Lauren, "I should have went for the turkey". Smitten with the beautiful fish and cheese spread I do not resign completely from the smokehouse, but for today I have had enough. I swipe a fork through Lauren's cranberry-walnut mayo and make note to myself that although the exotic may be more exciting it is definitely different to say the least.

Starved for Contact

Embarking on this journey is unbelievably exciting from a theoretical standpoint, but from a technical perspective, it is terrifying. Where in the world do I begin? I don't have a role-Dex filled with food authors to contact at my leisure, nor is there a section in a phone book that is labeled under food authors for me to scroll through, picking and choosing whom I'd like to interview and interrogate. So where in the heck do I start?

Well, as a true product of my society, the first place I begin is Twitter. Yes, instead of looking for any realistic options, I begin by tweeting to world renown chefs and authors hoping that my cutesy nick-name and clever 140 character quips will catch their attention and inspire them to write back to another fanatic stranger. Needless to say, this fails, so in an equally age-typical effort, the next thing I do is use Google to search for food writers in my local area. To my surprise I actually hit a jack-pot of a page! Turns out someone has been writing about food and making a website dedicated to the local latest and greatest of eats. But as luck should have it, it hasn't been maintained after 2009.

Finally a bit of wisdom is bestowed upon me, and I am recommended to a local restaurant where a former food writer now works. Hallelujah! A bone is thrown my way and with some luck I may just get to meet this person and pick her brain. So I use the best means of non-intrusive communication I know: Facebook. Okay, so it isn't the most reliable source for contact but I can hardly think of another way to contact someone without using their phone number that wouldn't creep them out completely and give them some sense of privacy.

Well it's been a short while but I haven't received a response. Forget it. Nobody wants to talk to a student writing a silly blog about food writing and what it takes to be good at it. Not yet at least. I may borderline harass people until someone gives up some information on what I've got to do to break into the biz but I'm okay with that. I'm just a student after all, wide eyed and drooling for someone to contact me, and at the very least give me a response!

Hungry

There have been few times in my life where I have found something that can entertain me, or occupy me for longer than a few weeks or months, one of them being school-- since it is necessary-- and another being food. Never possessing any real creativity as a child, it made being talented at something particularly stressful, especially when everyone else seems to be good at something. 

Well... ta-da! It seems the fates have finally blessed me with the obsession de le cuisine! Finally! Something I can take joy in and eventually hopefully be good at some day! Not to mention this is a two-in-one double-whammy sort of gig: I get to eat food, and tell people about it once I've eaten it! I never really understood why people thought you couldn't have your cake and eat it too, then again maybe it all depends on how long "having it" is.

Anyway, if you've ever seen the movie Julie and Julia, I intend on embarking on a similar adventure, minus alienating a loved one, and being able to cook incessant amounts of food. All-the-while I'll be discovering the path to becoming a food writer. I intend to cook and eat in a way that rises above the average college kid's go-to noodle or flash-frozen dish. I'm going to aim for the classics, maybe even the bizarre in a tribute to one of my heroes of The Travel Channel, Andrew Zimmern. Hopefully I'll uncover something authentic-- I'm in the northwoods, so we'll see how exotic I'll be able to get. But you never know, sometimes people surprise you, and I would not put it past Duluth to dish out something to make me bite my tongue.

So here it goes, a crock-pot-style journey with a sprinkle of fun, a dash of excitement, a little-woman-sized package of career aspirations, and a pinch whatever else I can find!

Now the only thing that I have to decide is, where to, or, how to begin ?