Culinary Fan Fiction...

Now this is just FUNNY!

I no longer participate in the spats on the Goldbergs' blog (my job alone is enough to give me an ulcer), but I still read what's going on.

The other day, Lee posted yet another announcement from a novelist "saying no to fanfiction." This time it was Megan Lindholm (who she is and what she writes, I haven't a clue.)

But this line in particular caught my eye...

On the notion that fanfiction is good "practice" for becoming a writer, she says, in part:

No. It isn’t. If this is true, then karaoke is the path to become a singer, coloring books produce great artists, and all great chefs have a shelf of cake mixes.

So last night I went out "happy-houring" at a lovely (and expensive) little bistro in the Orlando area, and decided I wanted some obnoxious dessert. There was hardly anyone there but the manager, on a rainy Tuesday evening, and I settled on a flourless chocolate torte.

Now, the thing was the richest, most obscene chocolate I've had in quite awhile, and anyone in my family will tell you I have the sweetest tooth on the East coast. The manager--a French gentleman who also happened to be the chef on duty that night--and I got to talking when he came by to see how I liked it.

(NOTE: I've transcribed and paraphrased the conversation as best I can remember it, and I think I got it mostly right.)

___

"How do you make a 'flourless torte'?" I asked him.

He explained, then said, "Does it taste like a brownie?"

I was a little afraid I'd insult him, but I said, "It does a little," and he laughed.

"Good, it is supposed to. Have you ever had a brownie that did not rise properly?"

A bit bewildered, I said yes, and then I realized--it DID kind of taste that way! The chef (name withheld) told me he always used to eat the undercooked parts of brownies from mixes because he liked it that way.

"When I learned to make gourmet desserts, I tried to make a chocolate taste that way. It is more dense, more rich, but it has a familiar taste. People like sophisticated and new things in a good meal, but they also like familiar tastes. Americans call it 'comfort food,' I think."

"Chocolate is comfort food," I said, (trying not to laugh, because by then I was remembering Lindholm's comment.) "So you based your recipe on a brownie mix?"

"Yes!" he teased me. "You are eating a very expensive, undercooked brownie!" (Definite implication that I was a sucker, but hey, I have a weakness for all things chocolate.)

He laughed, so I was able to at last, but he thought I was laughing at his joke--well, I was, but I was also laughing at the "brownie mix" comment.

___

There you have it, ladies and germs! Even a French chef whose menu has roasted duck and escargot and a whole bunch of things I can't even identify (let alone afford), based a recipe for a DAMN good dessert on good ol' brownie mix.

Why? Because people like "familiar tastes."

If that doesn't explain the motivation behind fanfic, I don't know what does.

The writer's imagination can enjoy both sophisticated new creations, and familiar, comfortable things. I love the new, uniqueness of a story that forms for the first time in my own mind, watching it come to life, watching the world build up into existence, watching the characters develop their personalities.

But I also love the familiarity of the worlds in my favorite books and movies, and letting my imagination take a little romp in them, and sharing those "familiar tastes" with other fans of those stories.

I hope one day that people will be interested in reading about the adventures of my Paulina, a teenager in circa 750 B.C. Italy. But until I've got her "just right," I know that my fandom readers enjoy reading my ideas for adventures for Harry Potter, that modern magical teen we all know and love.

There's no shame in enjoying "comfort food."