I want to start with a confession: I don’t actually like the phrase “food blog.” It suggests something aspirational — moody lighting, a linen napkin artfully wrinkled, a caption about “slow mornings.” Chez nous, mornings are not slow. Mornings are my kid asking why the toast is “the wrong shape” while only licking the jam off. I’m already sweating, trying to get dressed, get out the door, and stay sane.
So let’s set the terms early. This is not that blog.
What This Actually Is
This is a record of what gets made, what gets eaten, what gets refused on principle, and what it costs — in dollars, in time, in patience — to keep a household fed on a Tuesday. I have a university degree I paid too much for, I speak to my kid in as many languages as possible, depending on my own fatigue level, and I don’t write from inside the “mom blog” or “dad blog” categories most parenting content assumes. I’m more nonbinary leaning anyways, and specific gendering often leaves me feeling uncomfortable. So I’m not going to perform either one.
Ce blog sera bilingue — pas traduit, mais pensé dans les deux langues. Some ideas just work better in French. Le goûter is not really “snack.” On fait avec ce qu’on a doesn’t survive translation without losing its shrug. I’ll write in whichever language gets the point across, and sometimes that means both, side by side, saying slightly different things.
What You’ll Actually Get Here
- Grocery math, honestly reported — what a week of decent meals costs in this economy, in this city, with receipts, not vibes. And honestly they’ll be mostly Costco receipts.
- Real talk on what we’re eating.
- Occasional essays on raising a kid outside a gender binary, it’s not a main point but I like to think that there are other parents out there dealing with the questins, ‘Are you a boy or girl?’ To an unsuspecting person on a random walk in the park.
What You Won’t Get
No wellness branding. No “elevate your weeknight routine.” No pretending a five-ingredient dinner represents some kind of philosophy. Food here is infrastructure — it has to work, it has to be affordable, and it has to survive contact with a nine-year-old’s opinions. When it’s good, I’ll say so. When it isn’t, je le dirai aussi.
Tonight it’s Costco pizza. Plain for my kiddo, pepporni for me. Fridays are my partner’s gym night, so only two dinners to worry about. I’m not proud of it, but everybody eats.
Bonne lecture — et bon appétit, tel quel.
