Over three years ago, I was disabled, and in a mid-life reinvention of self,
moved across the country to New Jersey, I hardly knew a soul, when in a search
for new friends, I discovered a chat room in the Jewish Community online. They
were warm and welcoming to the shy little Californian. I went to parties, and
had lunch with wonderful women.
It was almost Pesach. I wanted to do something for my new friends, but could
not afford to make a Seder and invite them. Certainly, the logistics of such an
event would have been staggering, because I now had internet friends from all
over the country. That is how the recipe list was born. If I couldn't feed
everyone, then I could still do something to ensure that they ate well. So, I
started sending E-Mails with the formulas for treats.
I wasn't a writer then, or even thinking of becoming one, just an ex-teacher
looking for work. I learned that, in the job market, it is better to be young
with only a Bachelors degree, than older with a Master's, and came to say that,
"More is not always better, for schooling or waistlines."
There has been much struggle since that time. Through all of it, the recipe
list was mailed to my friends each week, at holidays even more often. Sometimes,
it was not a recipe at all, but a poem or or bit of reflection. There also came
to be a list of "Roomies" for whom I prayed when they were ill or troubled. I
then learned that the best cure for self-pity is to do a good deed.
What I received in return was a treasure past anything I could have imagined,
Thank You notes from all over the country. Letters came in my E-Mail, trusting
me with the hearts and troubles of those I had never met, but who let me share
their lives.
My friends encouraged me. "Eddy, these are good. Why don't you write for a
newspaper?" So, I started to polish my work in writer's groups. Maybe a gal who
had taught English could do something literary. I posted my work online, and
asked people to come and read it there.
I was forced to return to California, but my friends were kind enough to have
me as a guest in their homes, when I visited. I started knocking on doors,
begging for some editor to notice me. Nobody answered. Instead, the door came
looking for me, in the person of Kim Blagg, one of the people on the recipe
list, and my publisher.
The recipe list is still going strong, though some of the names on it have
changed over time. It now holds links to my work on the web. Those dear people
who read and make comments know my food. Through it, they have let me into their
hearts.
At last, there is this book. About half of what you will read is from those
letters to my friends. There are recipes and reveries, inspired by the tales I
have been told. I pray that you will enjoy sharing the warmth and camaraderie of
the recipe list. Welcome to my kitchen. |