Thyme to Establish

The Evolution of Ginger Thyme Part III:

Days, weeks, and months blissfully flew by for Baby A and I. Fall froze into Winter, Winter melted into Spring and Summer bridged us back to Autumn. Sandwiched between all that time, I had gained immense experience in the kitchen. I became confident in my approach. Whether it was sautéing or braising; a matchstick Julienne cut or dicing, I had the prereques under way. I'll be honest, my way wasn't exact or professional and by no means was I up to any chef's standard. My way wasn't a culinary journey from the texts of Le Cordon Bleu and I was certainly no stagiaire at El Bulli. I was the teacher, the content, and the student all in one; at best I was a Wiley self taught cook. If they came home to a nice, well balanced dinner, then I had completed my mission and accomplished the task at hand. Of course, there were countless times I didn't perform up to par. Whether it was undercooked meat (eeks!) or overly-salted potatoes, there was room for error, and yet they were always gracious in their approach to constructive criticism. Even when ordering Chinese Food was the alternative for the night, they always appreciated my efforts and supported my passion. Semi-foodies themselves, they were constantly sending me articles/recipes/trends from the New York Times about making pizza dough, tofu chocolate pudding or explorations of the "pescatarian" and "raw food" diets. They sought out literature that appealed to them and to me. For instance, they purchased Boston chef and restaurant owner, Joanne Chang's "Flour, Too," cookbook, which became an exciting divulgence that we would mull over all week. Furthermore, they would acquire appliances such as a Vitamix. Not only was it handy to have in the house, but it was complete with endless potential to create smoothies, soups and sauces. Their practical household purchases were one thing, but it was their thoughtful and supportive Christmas and birthday gifts. This consisted of classes on website building/marketing/branding, a book called "$100 Start Up: Reinvent the way you make a living, do what you love, and create a new future," along with vibrant food books, which showed how much they believed in my passion. I wasn't just the caretaker and BFF to Baby A, my value to them was bigger than that. I was an eager part of their dynamic, a player on their team of parenting, but most of all, they saw I was a millennial on the quest for purpose. 

When I started photographing and posting my food pictures with trivial captions, there wasn't much of a direction and I needed to determine what the purpose of all of this was. Should I stop or keep going? There were spurts of excitement and sprinkles of doubt. On my ambivalent quest, I decided it's all in good fun: let's put a name to this. After various talks and brainstorming with family, friends, roommates and so forth, I decided on Ginger Thyme. Not only was I half the genetic makeup of the O'Brien clan, I was a natural born strawberry blonde. Thyme followed in suit partly because I was partial to using rosemary and thyme within my cooking, and they also  served as a staple garnish. In turn, it was a play on words of two useful ingredients in the kitchen, but it also spoke as an explanation and a wrap up of categorizing the outcome of "my time," Ginger Thyme. This label would serve as a title to bring all my dishes back to one place.