Welcome Note

Hello, my Dear!

My name is Mrs Lovett, and I am the cook. Well, for a long time I tried to disguise myself as a decent office worker. I travelled my career path being “Financial This” or “Financial That” in some respected company. Eventually I succeeded to break out of this karmic routine and got promoted to “Strategic This and That” in the corporation that has an active position, cares about society and “has nothing to do with world terrorism and financial crisis”. Hell yes, two more reports to be responsible for, the right to attend one more meeting with the Big Boss, and, my grandma was so proud of me, flexible schedule which turned out to mean unlimited working hours. But I never managed to devote myself to such lifestyle completely – every Friday afternoon, after submitting 13^th draft of the presentation for that very important and unique project which is bound to cut 95% of our costs, boost personal involvement whole 3 points up, and, as an inevitable result, even solve the problem of HIV/AIDS in Africa… So, as the weekend began I would sneak out of that lovely friendly business environment and head right away to finally meet my spiritual peers and cook for our humble parish.

I should have known better than that. Such cheating couldn’t have lasted long, especially at the times when democracy just won its dominant position in our strong and proud country. One day, right before bonuses were to be distributed between the employees of our department, my open-minded and understanding boss found me eating delicious home-made lunch. That’s how I got fired for not complying with corporate rules and culture. But, if you’re lucky enough, you already know that it never rains, but it pours. Especially in London, Sao Paolo, Kuala Lumpur and Tel Aviv. Speaking of which, our … hm … “religious organization” bankrupted, our … hm … “inspirer” left home for his secret land, my spiritual peers were careful enough not to expose those home-made lunches and socially passive behavior at work and not to care what’s gonna happen to me next.

So, here I am, looking for a chance to reveal my true passion, which happens to be traditional food, and to occasionally make a buck or two. Though, there is a chance that I got my employment councilor wrong when she told me I have to be more creative, patient, and social, and blogging was not what she meant. Probably what she meant was that I should take second career courses, and when asked at a job interview “What would you do if angry but good-natured warlock, blood-thirsty zombie and a lost little baby started chasing you 15 minutes before the assignment was due?”, instead of blurting out “Are you fucking crazy?”, I should answer “You know, that’s really interesting that you asked this question, I was just considering the situation last evening myself. Job is my first priority, of course, there is not a chance not to meet deadlines. Thus, zombie may be calmed down by peacefully talking to him and offering the alternative, maybe visiting competitors’ office. Then, I would quickly bring baby to the IT department – they’ve got lots of nice toys, and they can find everything on the internet, so finding baby’s mom shouldn’t be a problem. And let’s not be ridiculous, there is no such thing as warlocks, so I’ll just have to realize he’s not there”. Too bad then…

Coming down to the point, if you are looking for a traditional recipe of those sinfully delicious cabbage rolls your aunt used to make; or if your friend treated you to some nice dumplings, and then got the recipe lost in the bottom if his endless soul; or if, g*d forbid, you seek some new cuisine experience and consider yourself brave enough to taste the food once cooked in a country marked by dark Stalinist past – you are always a welcomed guest at my modest blog. Only if you are the one who had pizza last Christmas, and who does not remember the taste of mom’s turkey and grandma’s cheesecake – please, do not bother to come back here again, be multicultural, order some sushi! And, finally, if you are my “inspirer”, who left us all alone at the time of crisis, now asking to be forgiven– remember, I will, for sure, hunt you down and cook you!

Sincerely yours,
Mrs Lovett