Welcome to Sense of Taste! My name is Mary Catherine, and I live in Maine with my husband and our dog, Izzy. I recently moved back to the East Coast after living in Fairbanks, Alaska for nearly five years. I started this blog as a hobby to get through a very long, arduous Fairbanks winter, and, well, it stuck.
I’m from the South, and I respect it deeply. When asked where I grew up, I tell people I was born in Eastern North Carolina, but I was born again in Boone, a small town nested in the Appalachian Mountains. Despite the
mukluks L.L. Bean boots on my feet, I still have one foot in the South, and I wonder if I always will.
I’m an old soul. My favorite Saturday morning activity is watching birds on the feeder while drinking strong, black coffee out of my favorite hand-thrown mug. My favorite place to kill time is in antique stores. The less organized the better. With each old “thing”, I create stories about the faceless people who once cherished it. One of my favorite smells is that which hides between the spine and the old, well-loved pages of books. I like full-bodied red wines and bitter IPAs. I live for feeling the warmth of sunshine and hearing the stillness of freshly fallen snow. I can thank Fairbanks for that. I have salt water in my veins, having grown up in Eastern NC, and (shhh…don’t tell any of my Mainer friends this about me) I prefer blue crab over lobster.
As someone with gypsy-feet, I believe food connects us to the place we are now and to the places we were before. Food defines our personal histories and where we’re from. Even more, meals connect us to the people and the experiences which bring us to gather around the table in the first place. A smarter man than me (Marcel Proust) wrote, “When nothing else subsists from the past, after the people are dead, after the things are broken and scattered· the smell and taste of things remain poised a long time, like souls· bearing resiliently, on tiny and almost impalpable drops of their essence, the immense edifice of memory.” I believe in that quote, too.
I live for memories, both those I’ve made and those I will make in the future; I live for community; I live for history; I live for family; I live for food. That, friends, is what this blog’s about.
P.S. Every recipe you see on this blog was tested and eaten in my kitchen. I don’t use hairspray, cotton swabs, paintbrushes, or any other tool to make the food that I photograph look any different than if you were to cook it in your own kitchen. So, there may be cracks in my cakes, uneven browning of my chicken, and less-than-perfect pie crusts. Because less-than-perfect tastes good and nourishes, too.
Some historical photos for you to get to know me a little better (all are taken with various types of cameras (from DSLR to iPhone to good-ole film):