Food Security Carnival Discussion Post.

[commodorified]

Solicit or offer ideas, cheer each other on, ask for or offer data or resources, team up and do a group-authored post or a mini-carnival cluster of posts, find a beta, be a beta ...

I would like to say: I am not at all worried about avoiding duplication, and suggest that nobody else be either.

If eight people do posts on How To Cook Eggs, they will all be different, they will all be right and useful, and each of them will be somebody's absolute most useful and favourite post of the whole carnival.

Carry on!

Comments

[nancylebov]

Not wanting to eat food which has been touching other food is something that some picky eaters have-- your sister might have felt that way regardless of your family having a restaurant.

[synecdochic]

Oh, absolutely, but she's pretty confident about it stemming from early experience in food service (and later discovering her husband has an intolerance allergy to something that's in nearly every single bit of American food ever, but the habit was already long set). Restaurant brats have very bizarre relationships with food a lot, even if we follow our parents into the biz. (Which I did not, obviously. I love feeding people -- for years my annual vacation involved a week-long retreat in which I would regularly feed 25+ people with dueling food allergies and preferences for the whole week -- but I don't love it the way you need to love it in order to survive in a commercial kitchen. I can work a commercial kitchen if I need to, in terms of skill if not in terms of physical ability, but boy howdy do I not want to.) I know a lot of people who grew up in the biz and a lot of people who came to it as an adult, and it really is drastically different than liking to cook a lot as a child and going into commercial food prep as a young adult or adult.

I mean, my father stopped at the grocer's to pick up the morning produce order and the coffee filters my grandfather had run out of while in the middle of taking my mother to the hospital 'cause she was in labor with me, and I literally spent most of my time before I was in school either in a baby seat on the end of the counter or in a playpen in front of the deli case, and I started waiting tables when I was five or six years old. It was ... a very bizarre childhood in a lot of ways.