So You've Subscribed to My Substack

An introduction and, apparently, a syllabus for Home Economics.

I see many of you are new here. First off, let me thank you for subscribing, even if you subscribed for free. Truth be told, this Substack is so new — at least insofar as I’ve dedicated myself to updating it — that I’m not sure what the rest of you pay for, but you keep me in Kosher salt, so thank you as well.

By way of introduction, my name is Emily and two years ago, I almost died. As a result, I quit the fast-paced world of political journalism to become a full time creative writer and part-time backyard farmer. I live in East Nashville, which is like living in Portland if it were authored by Southern Living, in a 100-year-old house that’s always under some sort of renovation because something new has collapsed. I have a husband, three kids, two cats, an embarrassing number of chickens, a backyard mini-farm, and a Wolf stove that I treat like a family member (I cried in the middle of the street when it was delivered).

And I cook.

It was not my first profession. My first profession was lawyer. I stayed with it about six months. Then I moved on to high-level political communications, which was fun for a decade. Then, I mistakenly became a journalist. But I’ve always loved to cook — I just didn’t know how to do it, even though love smells like my grandmother’s kitchen and tastes like my mom’s pasta bolognese. They are Italian and so am I, 100%, from San Marino, a tiny micro-state surrounded by Italy’s Emilia-Romagna region, and I grew up with all the culinary wonders that entails, but it wasn’t until I lived on my own that I started to teach myself the basics of making food, not just for nutrition, but for nourishment — of body and soul.

It sounds horrendously cheesy, I get it, but look, until I almost died, I didn’t realize how much food meant to me on a cellular level. It’s my love language. It’s how I felt love, it’s how I show love, and it’s, to a large extent, an intangible force for good in my life. The kitchen is warmth and family and tomato sauce bubbling on a stove, and to me, that’s home. And that’s something I think we’re all searching for — home.

Since then, I’ve applied for my Masters degree in education, teaching home economics to elementary and middle schoolers. I run preschool camps where we make butter and mozzarella cheese. I read a lot of Alice Waters and St. Francis. To my husband’s great chagrin, I switched to Birkenstocks.

And now you’re here to learn, and I love it. Thank you. Thank you for making my Saturday morning shower thoughts on why people don’t — or can’t — cook go viral. Thank you for trusting me to teach you, or at least point you in the right direction.

Up next, how to stock your pantry.

And then we’re going to chat how to pick your cookware and cooking implements.

And then maybe how to organize your kitchen for maximum efficiency.

And then — maybe then — we’ll make some chicken.

If you have other suggestions, I’m all ears.