Careful, now I'll go a bit further: One of the reasons why I'm overheard blogging is probably the thing about getting older. Let's just see how it is. Growing old makes you hang on to things and situations, hold on to them, keep coming back, and do not want to forget.

We remember grandmas, aunts and mothers spending hours on the sofa squatting, licking some liqueurs, eating Mon Cherie and leafing through photo albums.
"Do you still remember ...?" You yourself sat forcedly, rolling your eyes and browsing on hot coals in the Bravo Girl, preferring to embark on all those exciting new adventures throwing out there instead of rummaging in the past again and again.

In the meantime, however, I would love to rummage through my (cooking) past. With many recipes I connect certain events and feelings of life. I only ate certain dishes and drinks in certain phases of my life and situation - and never again afterwards. And I can not remember many of them.

In fact, pretty booklets and mouleskins in all colors and sizes, which I bought one after the other, are stacked at home because I like my recipes, interesting things and ideas wanted to hold on to cooking. I always saw myself in the evening at my (not existing) small ladies secretary from the 60s (Arne Jacobsen sends my regards) and make my entries. It should create interesting and colorful compendiums in which I wanted to scroll years later then pleased. I've probably read too much Bronte or seen romantic Hollywood movies. The fact is: in the book is nothing in it. All blank.

I'm not a diarist - not even when it comes to prescriptions.

That's why I'm so excited about my discovery that I like blogging. Somehow I like the medium, the interactivity, the exchange with people and the design possibilities (you are not in vain in the communications industry, no matter).

Well, now we are also in the thing with the light and arrived to the food.
That's nothing without pictures. The recipe alone is only the starting point. Of course, the path (the preparation) is always a goal and is necessarily described - but most important is the finished dish, as it finally looks, if you are happy and in anticipation of the coming pleasures (hopefully!) Bows over the plate or the pot , That's the moment that matters.

This moment should preferably be kept in daylight. Anyone who has ever tried to photograph food will have noticed with surprise how the tastiest things under the energy-saving pear of the IKEA kitchen lamp suddenly turn into yellow-brown lumps. And honestly, the camera in the iPhone G3S does not help much now. Conveniently, the iPhone does not have a flash function - so then automatically saves the worst of all mistakes (flashed food).

Since I have little daytime leisure and move my kitchen operations in most cases in the evening shift So I have one - no - two problems:

1. the daylight
2. the camera

Problem 1 is already solved: I ordered with a daylight lamp. Thus, the tiny kitchen will soon be even more tiny - but brighter.
Problem 2 has to wait a bit.