“We must live and learn.”
-Jane Austen
Have you ever met an enigma? You haven’t?
Well, hello. I’m Marta.
Sometimes I make sense. Often, I don’t. In my confusion you are entertained. Hell, so am I!
I am, simply put, the riddle you could never figure out.
I’m a woman with wild, crazy hair and painted, pouty lips who’s tatted up…and I’m a homeschool mom. I claim the Bronx as home, but I’ve never lived anywhere for more than six years. My mother’s from Puerto Rico by way of Brooklyn; my father’s from New Jersey. I cook Lebanese food (and cook it well, I’m told).
No one gets me, yet everyone understands me.
I grew up in a military home, but I swore that I would run for the hills and never again stand ramrod straight at the sound of “Retreat”. I met, fell in love with and married a soldier. How’s that for sticking to my resolve?
I wasn’t really a fan of children. They’re messy. They talk…a lot. They move about when you don’t want them to. Now I homeschool our Wonder Twins. They make messes and talk- a lot. And, yes, they move constantly. And I love it…well, maybe not the messes.
I’m the ultimate enigma.
I’m a chef with no restaurant. I graduated, with honors, from culinary school and sauntered into the “Industry” without a place to call my own; so, I created it. This is my kitchen- my space. It’s where I live out my dreams of being a Master Chef, yet also bemoan the failures of my humanity. It’s where I find the validation that only self-accomplishment can offer. It’s where I expose my weaknesses and fallen soufflés. It’s where I complain about my saintly husband and cherubic children not doing the dishes.
It’s where you come to reassure yourself that even those with formal culinary educations botch things.
Where doting mothers cuss every once-in-awhile.
Here you can see that not all amazing chefs have to have a culinary degree and those that do aren’t perfect. I’m fan of encouraging people. I like to be encouraged so I do the same for others- you know, the old “Golden Rule“? I don’t like mean people, and I sometimes have a mouth on me; overall I’m a marshmallow with a hard shell.
I haven’t had the easiest life, and at times I have thought of giving up (even came close to it once). But, by the grace of God, I overcame bouts of sadness and uncertainty and I’m grateful for another chance. I can’t imagine not living my life. It’s not all unicorn farts and purple posies; life still gets sucky at time, but the joys outweigh the defeats. I rest in the mindset that all bad days come to an end and tomorrow has the potential to be kickass.
We’re going learn together here. We are definitely going snort with laughter (I say that, because I’m a notorious snorter). We will cry in anger, experience loss and defeat and sadness. But we’ll get through it together. Then, we’ll cook. We’ll eat. We’ll enjoy each other’s company and watch as we rock this life. We’ll be a family, because, can’t we all use a few more peeps?
We make sense of both the edible, and inedible, things of life here; I’m glad you’re here to do it with me.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
~Marta
