apricot-blueberry crumb tart

I love people. I take after my mother, a real “people person.” She is the chattiest, most exuberant person I know. For me it’s a little bit different. I guess I’m an introvert — a term that I think is more understood than ever before — who loves people all the same. I don’t think introversion is contrary to loquaciousness, to curiosity in others. Get me going, and I can chew your ear off (if there’s any flesh left after my mother is through). Because really, people are such curious creatures. Books filled with infinite pages. Oh, the stories they tell. Resources. There are so many people who are wiser, sharper, more learned than I will ever be. And people are just plain funny and awkward and infinitely interesting. Our little habits — the way we walk, we talk, we eat — are just so damn amusing. A boring person? I’ve yet to meet one. I know people with whom I’m incompatible. But I’m rarely bored when in someone else’s presence.

So, this medium has suited me well. At a time when I feel my personal relationships are suffering — from distance, lack of time, lack of effort, or what have you — writing about food has filled the gap a little. I’m sharing, I’m talking. Reading blogs from other people, some near, some far, each with his or her own friendly voice, has satisfied, to a degree, my craving for connection, even if I’ve never commented on that person’s blog or sat down to a meal with him or her.

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