I have always... always... loved food. My grandmother was wonderful southern country cook. My mom, much the same, enjoyed trying new things. She loved to make candy and pastries during the holidays. As a child, I learned to use food as a coping mechanism. It didn't matter what I ate. I ate in quantity, enjoying any decadent item. I ate on happy occasions, and for sadness and loneliness. Food filled a void in my life. It was always the faithful friend. A faithful friend that I abused. It is funny how that works.... we abuse food until we become dependent on it. If not approached wisely with reverence, it can control us. I wasn't just dependent on food... there was an odd-codependency of a sort. As an adult, I began to learn to eat mindfully. The ability to eat slowly, savoring every morsal, was a battle. I was use to eating in a flash. I also found there was a demon that lived inside me. When I would order food, it would encourage me to order more, telling me what I had chosen would Foods with lots of spice and flavor. I am particularly fond of international food. I am always experimenting. My goal is try to find ways to make fantastic exotic foods on a budget. I take great pride in feding my family healthy food on less than $60 a week. Every Sunday I bake bread and make salad dressings for the upcoming week. I consider preparing in advance something I do with love for my family. Planned and prepared all the food for one step-daughter's wedding, and the other one's graduation party. 200+ people at each event. A totally horrible veggie burger. I threw it out. We ate out that night! I've since learned to make wonderful chickpea burgers.