By Michele Laudig
Here's a cute New York Times story I couldn't resist sharing, about a 12-year-old who aspires to be a restaurant critic. This got me thinking about what kinds of random things in our childhoods lead us to where we are as adults.
What were you doing at 12 that hinted at your future food fanaticism?
Looking back at my middle school years, I have to laugh thinking about the 7th grade term paper I wrote on sushi (and the California rolls I brought to share with my classmates -- those were a bitch to make, because in small-town Pennsylvania where I grew up, it's really hard to find rice wine vinegar and seaweed!). I also made my own little handwritten, hand-drawn magazines (back in the stone ages before desktop publishing), and invented my own recipes. Now I'm so grateful that my parents indulged me.
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SHOW ME HOW
Which reminds me of some foodies I know who now have kids of their own, and are raising baby gourmands who throw tantrums when they crave pho or hamachi . . .