I am finally getting around to admitting I am indeed a foodie. They say admitting it is the first step, so I am well on my way toward a 12-step program of some sort. Do they have those for foodies?

I am also finally making my foodie tendencies public (and really how much more public can you get than posting it on the world wide web for all the world to see) and starting a blog. My desire is to blog my way through recipes. Good, bad and not-ever-gonna-try-that-one-again recipes. Mostly because if Julie Powell can do, why can’t I? Not that I necessarily want to be famous and write a book about adventure, or have a movie made after my experience. And mostly because I have The Joy of Cooking and I’m finding it to be a joy. Really.

I know. I’m the one who told her mother, “Don’t bother teaching me how to cook. I’m going to grow up and marry a rich man. And we’ll hire a cook.” Well I did grow up. And I did get married. But the rich part? Nope, hasn’t happened yet, at least not monetarily. So out of a strong sense of self preservation, I have learned to cook. I’d like to think I’ve learned to cook well, but that is up to others to decide.

In an episode of Gilmore Girls, Lorelai says: “No, I wanna really cook. Like on the Food Channel. I wanna saute things and chop things. And do the BAM! I wanna arrange things on plate so they look like a pretty little hat. I wanna be the Iron Chef.” Now she is holding a box of Hamburger Helper, which in my opinion is not even real food much less real cooking. But I relate to that.

Oh and I also have Julia Child’s book, Mastering the Art of French Cooking. It will be interesting to try the recipes in there, a very Irish girl cooking french food. The story of my obtaining that cookbook is quite a story in itself. It seems it was sent to me anonymously. My birthday was a week ago and two days before the big day the UPS man stopped at my house. I was sure he was just delivering a book for me to read for review. Imagine my surprise when I pulled out Mastering The Art of French Cooking. Imagine my extreme surprise to find nothing in the envelope (that had the return address of that would tell me who sent the book. I still have no idea who sent it. I have exhausted all my possible suspects and they all deny it.

Anyway. I have a small tendency to ramble about nothing in particular. Who am I kidding? A small tendency? My middle name should be “Ramble.”

The other day I made Quiche Lorraine. I used the recipe from Mastering the Art of French Cooking. I knew it would be a hit when I was able to make the crust. Yes, I made the crust. I made a pastry crust. And it turned out.

I read in the cookbook that one should not improvise any recipes until they have actually made them a few times. I did not obey that rule. The recipe called for all purpose flour, but I thought to myself, “If I’m making a pastry crust, doesn’t it make sense to use pastry flour?” So I did. Organic pastry flour to boot. Oh and it called for 1.5 sticks of butter and 1/2 cup of oil, I used all butter. I just don’t keep vegetable oil on hand. I did have some olive oil but it was flavored and somehow I don’t think Julia would be proud if I used it.

Okay and it called for a pinch of pepper, I kind of got carried away with it. But it was still really, really good. I would label it a success.

Count one for the Irish girl cooking french.