I’m a food and wine writer, as well as contributing editor to a series of restaurant guides.
Conversation halted and hands reached forth to touch me, like the robes of a deity. It was a weird and funny moment, but got weirder and funnier still when I realized that they weren’t trying to be cheeky. One woman told me I was her idol. Another pushed me into a chair to beg for insider info on a certain celebrity chef (I had none). They were riveted and I was dumbstruck. After all, I was far from my prime—I had a newborn baby and the slow exhaustion that went with it. But somehow, just being an uber-foodie, a Sexy Mother Foodie, made me the life of the party.
This exact scene has played out more than once. In fact, I’m starting to lose count.
What does this tell me? That foodie is the new sexy, and we all want more.
What do I want to tell you? That being a Sexy Mother Foodie isn’t that hard. (Definitely not limited to foodie-moms. In fact, cocktail-mixing metrosexual men currently threaten our numbers.)
So I started this blog to offer my own take on what is whipping the food world into a Dionysian frenzy—and taking us all with it.
Follow me on twitter @cloccke