I’m up in NYC this week meeting with my cookbook co-author Kelly Geary, owner of Sweet Deliverance NYC. As you can see, she’s been  killing herself for the past couple of months creating all sorts of innovative deliciousness to appeal to the back-to-basics foodie crowd.  Her commercial kitchen is in Brooklyn, the zenith of the artisanal, DIY blah blah blah “but is this beef grass-fed?” scene.

I’m staying with my friend Pauline in Brooklyn. Being in the heart of Brooklyn has made me realize to what extent I’m an unwitting member of the DIY hand-crafted foodie tribe, even though I like to think I’m actually above it all.  When I open my refrigerator at home, I’m met with at least 17 jars of half-eaten home canned goods. My freezer is stocked with beef a farmer down the road gave us, and venison from a deer a neighbor shot for us. We only eat chicken slaughtered by hand by my husband.  When I open Pauline’s refrigerator, I see 10 different kinds of artisanal cheese, grass-fed milk and organic grapes. Her dog eats holistic kibbles and bits. It’s two sides of the same coin, is it not? Or perhaps the same coin: WE ALL FETISHIZE FOOD.

I give you canning porn:

Jars of mustard made by Bob McClure of McClure Pickles, a "hot" pickle brand that came out of Brooklyn