I was just involved in a kerfuffle with one of our writers, involving a professional food sculptor. I had commissioned the sculptor and the writer to find a pumpkin in summertime (no small feat), to design a piece for our Fall cover. They looked and looked, to no avail, so we started considering backup cover options. When the sculptor finally turned up a last-minute pumpkin, it was too late. We had already decided to put an Italian baker on the cover. Well the writer who had originally pitched me the story got upset, said I had led them on, made false promises, etc. I managed to contain the situation (with some gracious help from my boss), but it got me thinking- my life has changed so much in the past 12 months.
I consider “Last-summer Jesse,” and how woefully unenlightened he was about his immediate future. The idea that my biggest life conflict this July would involve a major pumpkin confrontation was unimaginable. Further, if you had told me I would edit a food magazine, give lectures on the food movement, write a piece for the Village Voice (with more to come!), and basically dive up to my neck in New York’s food scene, I would’ve said “Keep dreamin’ pal!” And yet.
I’m not much on advice-giving, but I would say this: as grim as things can look at times, as unpleasant as your near future can seem, you have absolutely no idea what lays around the corner. So…keep on trucking, chums. (maybe this is why I don’t give advice)
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to ride my bike to a fresh pasta company to pick up five of their products, which I will then bring to our recipe tester in Midtown. C’est la vie!