I spent the last two weeks immersing myself in the blogoshere. Know what I learned? If I want readers, I need to tell people what to do.
I need to tell you how to grow tomatoes, grind your own baby food, knit an afghan, photograph a field of sunflowers in southern France, start a new business, change the oil in your car.
How could I be so dense? All these postings I’ve sent off to you, and I’v never told you how to do anything.
Know what else I learned? If I want lots of readers, I need to tell you what to do in the kitchen. Not only what to cook and how to do it, but which specialty machines and rare utensils to use while you do it.
I need to morph into a combination of Julia Child and Martha Stewart.
“What’s the problem with that, Georgia?” you sensibly ask me. “You’re intelligent, aren’t you? You’ve proven to me that you’re adaptable,” you kindly add.
I like to think I’m both. What I’m not is a cook. I could not possibly be less interested in the process of changing raw food into anything edible.
But here it goes, here’s my effort to step on that path trodden so successfully by Julia and Martha.