Julie and Julia: a warning to bloggers?

We're just back from the cinema, and as I forgot to turn the boiler on before we left there is no hot water for our baths. So while I wait, I thought I would reflect on the lessons I have learned tonight.

Two posts in, and a quasi-deadline of 1 year to test my commitment to this food blogging thing, without the insane pressure of the movie Julie's target, but also without the safety-net of a book of recipes to follow. Will I stick it out until my book deal comes along...

I certainly love the call to 'get fearless' about cooking - how often do I read a particularly complex recipe, or eye up some extraordinary specimen of Scotland's watery deeps, and discount them out of habit - not enough time, not enough money...not enough commitment? On the other hand, it's not my idea of a dream evening to steam 3 live lobsters or make 7 aspic moulds. For one thing I don't even have a bundt tin.

Tonight I am thankful that my aim of creating fun food on a frugal budget leaves such delights as still crawling crustaceans and whole calves feet well outside my remit.

I am also a little concerned by the impact of all that frenzied food preparation, and consumption, on our Julie's marriage and sanity. I really don't want to drop the ball on either of those, I feel they may be important to the general quality of my life.

But then, she clearly found such fulfillment and joy in her cooking project - and that I understand. As, I suspect, will anyone who reads this. We are foodies. We love food. We think it, dream it, plan it, shop for it, indulge in it, prepare it, savour it and share it. I hope not in a gluttonous way, but with joy at all the vast variety created for us to enjoy.

And even whilst walking home, I have been planning what to cook tomorrow. So watch this space, Julie and Julia has not taught me to be cautious, the next recipe will be here soon.