Bon Voyage

So I'm too lazy to renew my passport. Now, I can't even go to Canada.

That's pretty bad, considering I grew up just about 30 minutes away in Buffalo, NY. You can walk across the border.

All it would take to get my travel credentials renewed is a short walk around the corner to Walgreen's for new photos and a brief stop at the post office. I've actually been carrying my old, expired one around ever since I got this bug to go wine tasting across the border in Niagara Falls and thought I'd spring the extra $60 to put a rush on it. Never happened.

People who know me aren't surprised. I like routine. I get comfortable.

Most people my age spent their 20s restlessly jumping around the country in search of new jobs, new loves and new adventures. Not me, a once wandering and ambitious teen. I have spent the past six years comfortably roosting here in the exact same job and the exact same apartment in Sarasota, Fl. It took years of uncharacteristic nagging from my mother - and a promise to oversee the process - to even let them replace the carpet in my apartment this summer.

Perhaps there is something more subconscious to my apparent laziness.

The truth of the matter is I'm pretty happy. I have a good job, which I get a lot of enjoyment out of and feel like I am making a difference. I have great friends and a supportive family. Life is pretty good for me.

I didn't feel that way a few years ago when I was first starting out on my own. I struggled with the high expectations I set for my job, missed my family and had trouble finding people in my new home to connect with. There were many times I thought about leaving.

Instead, I found the one place I could escape all of my frustrations and anxieties: my kitchen.

Evenings spent home alone away from my family and closest friends, I never really felt lonely. It may sound lame, but I had Emeril, Rachael or any other recipe or cookbook on my counter as I cathartically chopped, stirred and simmered away my depression. Somehow a few hours behind the cutting board with a glass of wine helps put life in perspective.

Over time, and with practice, I managed to find a balance between a solid work life and social fulfillment. My friends and I love to get together now with some food, a good bottle of wine (or a few) and great conversation.

But the problem with routine is that at some point it gets boring. Before you know it another decade is almost gone. You're pushing 30 with limited vacation time and finances and can't even muster the motivation for a quick trip to Walgreen's to leave the country.

What once seemed like all the time in the world to accomplish your hopes and goals has vastly diminished. Rather than the exotic life you dreamed of as a child, you're a single 28-year-old reporter living in the state with the largest population of senior citizens in the country.

The something to break the monotony came to me one Sunday morning as I tracked down a recipe for Greek Moussaka. I love ethnic food and experiencing different cultures and cuisines. I cook every weekend, and sometimes the biggest challenge is figuring out what I'm in the mood for. Why not cook my way around the world, researching and tracking down a recipe from every country, and blog about it?

In this age where one can Google and Wikipedia their way around the world you don't need a passport to experience something different. I am just a short walk away from the local Publix and a few hours from a great paella. Besides, cooking blogs seem to be all the rage anyway.

Before I published this very long first entry I showed some drafts to my closest writer friends and my little brother, who pointed out the air of "when life gives you lemons" to my story.

But the scholar in him eloquently noted that this really isn't about someone handing me something sour to deal with. Life has given me a seemingly endless supply of fine ingredients, talents and opportunities. It's up to me to figure out what to do with them.

"It would seem as if life is inherently good," Ben wrote. "When life (and Publix, Food Network, the Internet) gives you every food you'd ever want, yet your (allegorical) kitchen's a mess, make as much food as you can."

Now that sounds like a plan.

So 203 countries, I'm going to try to get through in 80 days (If Jules Verne could do it ...). I was originally going to try to do this consecutively, but my mother pointed out that might be too ambitious. So I'm going to just cook on Saturdays and Sundays, and maybe sneak in an occasional weeknight. I think it was always meant to be a metaphorical, Biblical 80.

Basically what I'll do is put all of the countries in a hat and every Monday draw two out for the following weekend. I'll probably pick a few other countries with similar cuisines to round out the meal and make the 80 day deadline. I'll post recipes during the week, for anyone who wants to follow along. And of course I'll share my awesome and entertaining stories about the cooking (and the parties).

The feasting will begin Sept. 6, 2009 - my 28th birthday. I will be home in Buffalo, NY.

And what better place to start the culinary adventure than where you came from, sort of. So my dad and I will be whipping up a birthday feast from our ancestral birthplace - Germany.

With any luck, this will at least suffice as some adventure and intrigue until I figure something else out, or at least have motivation to renew my passport.

And maybe along the way I'll figure out what else I should be doing with all these damn ingredients.