The F Slur
If someone ever called me a f*die I’d consider it an act of violence. There’s just a certain distaste I have for the word fdie. It feels like it’s a term that strictly exists in the instagram-adjacent realm of food. There’s actually no reason for me to have such a negative reaction to the word fdie but I’m gonna keep censoring it because that is my relationship to the word. Idk doesn’t it just spark the image of someone annoying? Like can you honestly tell me that when someone says the word fdie you think of someone who is very interesting and cool and is not annoying? I just think being called a f*die would be a big misunderstanding as far as me and my relationship to food. All I want is an encyclopedic knowledge of every single ingredient that could possibly pass through my kitchen. That’s all.
Annoying f*dies aside, we are in the age of influencers. Oh how they influence us these days with the push and pull of the algorithm. See, maybe it’s that fdies wish they were food influencers but they are unable to amass enough power to do any influencing so they settle for the self-identification of f*die. Too bad they chose to be annoying. Back to food influencers. Or more specifically, am I food influencer? Do I have power? Would you say after reading my blog post from March 2020 about the trials with the pressure cooker you decided to throw your pressure cooker to the curbside? Well I hope I wasn’t wielding such devastating power back then because you shouldn’t throw your pressure cooker out to the curb it’s really good for infusing THC into various oils so if nothing else that gives it a spot in my kitchen.
I was confronted with the possibility of becoming such a food influencer on my birthday. In my semi-public cooking show debut I was offered an exclusive deal from Aline to create a twitch cooking stream. My debut show. Exclusive offer. Like, sometimes it really is just about being in the right place at the right time, you know? But in the rush of it all I had to take a pause, the shallots needed to go into the skillet where the oil was getting way too hot. And then as I completed that task I had to take another pause, mentally. I had to think to myself, was I really ready for the responsibility of influencing multiples (whether it’s multiples of 1 or 2 or 30 is up in the air) of twitch viewers? What are the other girlies doing on twitch? They have LED lights right? Would I have to put up LED lights in my kitchen? I think all the LED lights would be a safety hazard. Where would the light-up keyboard go?
I don’t think I’d like to be a food influencer. It’s far too public. Look at me. You’re all receiving word of this blog post via a BCC email list of 37 people. I am too mindful of deciding who is the audience. The rush of posting my writing “publicly” on ello is enough spotlight for me. Ello is not even really public. Who the fuck is on ello? Who’s paying for that domain name six years later? What I’m trying to say is that I could not be a public food influencer. What I could be is a spiritual food influencer. Vera said it better than I could. Apparently, when she buys vegetables it’s because a specter of me appears and urges her to buy vegetables. Umm, hello astral projection! I didn’t even know I could do that.
After she told me that on my debut cooking show as I downed shots of whiskey and used a mandoline (in that order unfortunately) it was decided. My food influencer persona would simply be an astral projection. I will send my soul across the globe if it means I can get you to choose to cook dinner at home instead of eating take out for the night. Over here in the home-kitchen-turned-studio-turned-test-kitchen-turned-quiet-place-of-meditation, we’re getting ready for the big launch of my food influencer career! As soon as I can send my soul farther than my wingspan, we’ll be in business baby!! The management team is getting ready with a bunch of zingers for the ghastly version of me to whisper in your ear next time you’re deciding on what to eat. Here’s a sneak peek of some of the things you might hear the wind, which resembles me in a mesh shirt and corduroy waist apron, seduce you with in the near future:
“Sometimes life is easier if you just eat the dirt on the carrot too.”
“If your fleet water came out that color would you consider it clear?”
“You’ll never be morally superior to me until you eat your kohlrabi raw and take shots of homemade vinegar.”
“I know you’re embarrassed about the rotting cucumber in your fridge. It won’t make you feel better but you should take a nibble of it, just in case.”
“I will NOT let you take another step towards the trash can with those chicken drippings.”
“Seriously, eating a little bit of dirt just adds umami. I’m not fucki- I’m not lying to you.”
“Is that…………… a tasty recipe?”