What was it I said yesterday about lounging? Ah, yes. We are in a loungy state of mind these days. And deservedly so (thanks, Cookiecrumb!).

Not that I didn’t have every intention of rising bright and early this morning (that’s 9 am west coast time), and industriously tackling my BlogDay 2006 post, but see, there was this cat.

I mean what are you supposed to do when you’ve got a cat perched so lovingly on your tummy? You just can’t bear to move her, right? So you scritch behind her ears. And then under her chin. And then you do that thing where you curl your hand into a loose claw and she slides her jaw across your fingertips, teeth behind slightly retracted gums, scritching your nails, your fingers catching on her ears as she tilts her head and shifts sides…

…and she’s so damn purringly content that the next thing you know it’s two hours later and you’ve just finished giving a full body deep tissue Swedish massage (plus Rolfing session) to your cat.

Well, I’ve had worse mornings. And possibly even lazier mornings.

But seeing as the day is now passing by and it is indeed BlogDay, it’s high time I get to my BlogDay post.

First a brief official bit about BlogDay:

BlogDay was created with the belief that bloggers should have one day dedicated to getting to know other bloggers from other countries and areas of interest. On this day every blogger will post a recommendation of 5 new blogs. In this way, all Blog web surfers will find themselves leaving around and discovering new, previously unknown blogs.

The BlogDay site archives are down at the moment, but I’ve got the full instructions posted over at Food Blog S’cool, so check ‘em out. If you join in, don’t forget your Technorati tag so you’re part of the official blog exploration route!

Now, for my five, I didn’t exactly pick “new” blogs, but, as Paz points out on her BlogDay is coming soon post, new means “blogs that you’ve recently discovered or blogs which are new to you.” I’ll add to that (because I’m all about bending the rules): newly discovered bloggers within larger, well-known group blogs.

So, without any further ado (or feline interruptions):

1. Gastronautical Gastronomicon: So here we are in Portland and I’m thinking: where are all the local food bloggers? I’ve run across two or three of them, but is there such a thing as a food blogging community around here? Surely those lucky Bay Area kids can’t be the only ones having fun, right? Well, after dipping my toes into the Portland Food forum, what do I discover but Gastronaut’s tasty (and deliciously snarky) blog and — lookie! — he’s just started a Carnival of PDX Food Blogs! With baseball references! We are so all over this.

2. Pacific Northwest Cheese Project: I’d heard about this bloggy love letter to the great artisan cheese makers of the Pacific Northwest some time ago from my friend Jay Lake (author, baker of fantastic ginger chocolate chip cookies, and occasional cheese blogger), but for the longest time I resisted checking it out. Why? Because I was trapped on an island that was almost entirely bereft of affordable goat and sheep cheeses for my poor, lactose intolerant tummy. But now that I’m in the big city (where I can hardly swing a cat without hitting a damn fine piece of non-cow cheese), I can read and salivate and rejoice.

(The Cat objects strenuously to that last parenthetical statement and though she too adores the Pacific Northwest Cheese Project, she would be much happier if her captors were to accidentally leave a portion of their recently-purchased Black Sheep Creamery Pale Blue Ewe in an accessible location.)

3. Global Voices Online: I only just discovered Global Voices Online, and there’s much there to explore, but for today’s five I want to single out one contributor who’s a familiar face in the food blogging community: Melissa, the Cooking Diva. I’ve dropped by Melissa’s blog on a number of occasions to check out her delectable Latin American recipes, but here’s my new discovery: she’s got an amazing collection of global food blog reports over on Global Voices Online. Seriously, if you’re looking for one-stop global culinary inspiration, this is the place, hands down.

4.Now we take brief detour from Gastroblogia and head over to Daily Kos where I offer up three diarists well worth a read. First up is OrangeClouds115, who writes eloquently and passionately about organics, pesticides, family farms, and the politics of food in her series Vegetables of Mass Destruction. Second is bonddad a hard-hitting economic writer who isn’t afraid to use the term “Class War.” Third is nyceve. She writes about the shambled, killing state of health care in the U.S. and oh, you’ve got to have a heart of Halliburton steel to not be moved by her stories from the trenches.

Now, why these three with the latter two stepping outside the realm of culinary blogging? Because it’s all so sadly and horrifyingly connected: lack of access to healthcare, to decent employment, to healthy and affordable organic, locally produced food — how many millions in this country have hit this ugly trifecta? It’s a national disgrace and it deserves our attention.

(The Cat is now horribly depressed and would like me to choose something of a more cheerful nature for my final slot. So…)

5. Teapots Teapots Teapots: The other day, on a whim, I decided to search for tea blogs. I found several lovely ones, but the one that most appealed to my sense of whimsy was Andy Titcomb’s UK blog about teapots. Not only does Andy blog about unusual teapots (and teapot collectors, and newsworthy moments in teapot history), he also makes teapots and has quite a nice gallery on his main website. The Cat has asked me to point out this one as her personal favorite.

Well, there you have it — my list of five many blogs to visit on BlogDay 2006, and hereafter. I’m told you can still join in even if it’s just turned September in your time zone, just so long as it’s still August 31st somewhere in the world! Okay, I made that last bit up, but it sounds good to me!

Finally, if I may kidnap a grand suggestion from Sam, leave a link in my comments if you’ve got your own list of five (or more) to share!

BlogDay2006

We have an honorary new member!

Okay, so he doesn’t know it yet, and he missed the official day by a week or so, but see for yourselves. Wil Wheaton, the man, the dude, the Dennis…. no, wait… the Geek Extraordinaire (and one of my personal blogging heroes, I might add) has written a post titled Is it actually just about a sandwich? Yeah, I guess it is.

And is the post actually just about a grilled ham and cheese sandwich?

Yes it is.

And it’s hilarious.

Welcome to Gastroblogia, guymanndude. You rock.

Damn time machine was on the fritz this week. I gave it a few kicks in the side, it sputtered, then belched spicy, persimmon-colored steam, then at long last, it spit out the piece below, which is apparently an encyclopedia entry of some sort. Is this is from our future or from the future of an alternate present (and if so, how the heck did the machine make it back here)? Eh, no matter. After all, it’s rather hard for Gastroblogian historians to resist a good yarn.

(The following transcript is from the speeches of Jaques Rochefort Gouda, circa 4246 AD, Gastroblogia Central Archive. As much as we historians would like to believe we know the facts revolving around the birth of Cheese Sandwich Day, and the accuracy of Gouda’s elaborations, alas, we have only spotty records; myths and bedtime stories passed down from generation to generation, and we can only say that we hope every inch of it is true. Especially the parts we’re least likely to believe. )

Citizens of Gastroblogia, today on the 2240th Anniversary of Cheese Sandwich Day, it is vital that we reflect upon the humble origin of this great symbol of our freedom, and so, I offer up a brief history as precursor to our riotous and cheese-filled celebration that will begin in just a few short moments.

(crowd goes wild)

Let us travel back through the mists of time to the origin of our beloved nation and to the mighty cheese sandwich that will forever be so dear to our hearts.

(more thunderous applause)

Few of you realize that the birth of our great nation was not an easy one. Oh, no. We had a rival. An older nation, confident in its supremacy but so attached to the old ways it had grown stagnant. Yes, East Epicurikstan –

(boos and hisses throughout the crowd)

East Epicurikstan, where the average citizen, despite his professed love of cookery, did not concern himself with what he ate, or what his neighbor ate, or his second cousin for that matter –

(cries of shock from the crowd)

Yes, East Epicurikstan, a harsh regime that claimed status as a meritocracy, but was, in truth, beholden to such outdated notions as “advertisers” and “editorial boards.”

(more hisses)

Always, in East Epicurikstan, the interests of the few trumped the interests of the many, and always, they looked upon the newfangled activities of neighboring Gastroblogia with disdain, for here in Gastroblogia, it seemed, we lacked censorship. We lacked corporate overlords. And shockingly (to the East Epicurikstanians), we allowed — even encouraged — our citizenry to do anything they wanted.

(a mighty cheer from the crowd)

At the height of the Great Controversy, citizens of Gastroblogia declared their solidarity by carving their cheese sandwiches into outlandish and suggestive shapes. This particular artifact was found on the steps of the East Epicurikstanian Embassy by a writer of “glossies” whose name has long since faded into the dark recesses of forgotten history.

Now, one would think that would lead to chaos. Well did it?

(crowd responds with a resounding “NO!”)

No! Not chaos, but community!

Yes, poor East Epicurikstan, stalled in the dark ages because they clung, white-knuckled, to the archaic notion of top-down information dispersal, and yet, they still tried to impose their rigid beliefs on their neighbors, including the notion that one should not discuss what one ate for dinner, especially if one ate a cheese sandwich!

(crowd boos and hisses)

But, good citizens of Gastroblogia, we knew better. Even then, in the early days of our great nation, we knew better. We knew we did not need such impositions. We cast aside their glossies and the trappings of their so-called meritocracy and we rose up, declaring our autonomy. Who was East Epicurikstan to impose their trends upon us? We could start our own trends, peer to peer!

(crowd cheers)

And that’s exactly what our great ancestors did! But it didn’t end there. Oh no, dear people, this was only the beginning!

Shocked at Gastroblogia’s impudence, the East Epicurikstanians rattled their sabers and cried absurdities. “There are too many bad food blogs,” they said, “Some of you should just go away!”

It is believed that in Days of Legend, centuries before the Birth of Blog, Mighty Cheese Warriors carried their sandwich gifts to neighboring tribes via canoe, thus ushering in a resplendent era of universal cooperation, feasting, and cheese production

Our great Gastroblogian ancestors responded, puzzled. “What does this mean?” they asked. “You might as well say there are too many stars in the sky simply because some shine brighter than others.”

One Gastroblogian cried, “Define many!” Another cried, “Define bad!”

The East Epicurikstanians couldn’t respond. They groped at “many.” “Well… lots” one said. “So many, I can’t find the good ones,” another proclaimed.

“How long did you search?” the first Gastroblogian asked.

“About ten minutes,” the East Epicurikstanian replied and twiddled his thumbs.

“Ahah!” the second Gastroblogian exclaimed.

“But,” said the East Epicurikstanian, “you don’t follow the rules. That’s why you’re bad.”

The Gastroblogians could only look at each other and shrug. “Rules?” they cried. “We have rules? Did someone give us a rule book?”

(laughter from the crowd)

And still, despite this all, the East Epicurikstanians rattled their sabers.

Firemen who rescued errant cheese sandwiches from tree tops were held in the highest regard in Gastroblogia and days were named in their honor. It is not now known how so many cheese sandwiches found themselves in need of tree-top rescue, but if Gastroblogian myths hold any grains of truth, we suspect that herds of “sentient sammies” (brought about by human-cheese hybrid experimentation) had something to do with it.

Now, one industrious Gastroblogian, not content to leave the discussion where it stood, set out to find these supposed rules, hoping that a definitive answer would at least curb the aggressions of their irritable neighbor. She searched high and low and found many different sets of rules, yet none of them matched one another and many were composed by the same corporate paymasters the citizens of Gastroblogia so disdained.

She found manifestos, each different, each pertaining to an individual citizen’s needs and desires. At long last she happened upon a collection of statements that best summed up the philosophy of Gastroblogia. She gathered them up from their various sources, carried them home and then spoke to the citizens of both Gastroblogia and East Epicurikstan.

“A blog is a conversation,” she said. “You may have it with yourself, or with your friends, or with your family. You may have it with your community, or with all the world at once; no matter. You choose, just as others may choose to partake in that conversation or leave as they see fit.

“You may find a conversation with yourself suddenly extends to the world, or you may find that in a conversation with the world, you are the only participant. Some conversations are more interesting than others. Some punchbowls at parties contain better punch. You are not obligated to serve the best punch, nor are you obligated to drink the worst punch.

“Nor are you ever, even when you share your blog with the world, obligated to engage in conversation with anyone but yourself. The point is only to do what you want to do because you want to do it. Beyond this, there are no rules.”

Cheese sandwiches often bore likenesses of great figures of Gastroblogian culture. It is well known that the Julia Child sandwich, considered priceless, is, to this day, kept in a temperature controlled vault in the Great Hall of Cookery. Sandwiches bearing the likenesses of East Epicurikstanians were often met with a less noble fate. Others were simply consumed. One legend tells of a Gastroblogian who constructed the world’s largest cheese sandwich, only to discover it bore the image of Jeffrey Steingarten. Unable to resist its siren song, the Gastroblogian devoured the entire thing in a single sitting and was promptly sent to the hospital.

Satisfied, the Gastroblogian sat back from her podium and took a bite of her sandwich.

“But,” the East Epicurikstanians cried, “What about professionalism? Who wants to read about what you ate for dinner?”

The Gastroblogians could only roll their eyes. They looked at one another and shook their heads, fearing the worst: The East Epicurikstanians just didn’t get it. The only thing to do now was to ignore their rending of hair and gnashing of teeth.

“We need a symbol,” they cried, “An emblem to represent our autonomy and our celebration of all that is good and delicious and lacking in rules.”

Briefly, they considered such things as the three bean casserole or tuna surprise.

But then the woman who’d sought out the rules rose from her seat, stood in front of her people and, with her half-eaten meal in one hand spoke the phrase that we all know so well today: “Ich bin ein Käsesandwich!”

(wild cheers from the crowd)

And so, great citizens of the Most Delectable Autonomous Collective of Gastroblogia, let us not forget our humble beginnings. Let us not forget the mighty cheese warriors who carved a path from our dining rooms to the stars and beyond!

(crowd applauds)

Let us not forget our eccentric and irreverent ancestors of Gastroblogia!

(crowd cheers)

And most of all…. Let us…. EAT!

(crowd digs in)

Mexican tuna melt with goat cheese and pico de gallo.

Sometimes the timing is just perfect. Take today’s random link hop, for example. In it, I stumbled across this terrific piece titled How To Be Creative (The Long Version) over on Hugh Macleod’s most excellent blog, gapingvoid. Yes, he’s the guy who’s doing that cool Geek Dinner (with free wine) thing mentioned over at Food Blog S’cool.

Here are three of my favorite snippets from How To Be Creative:

5. You are responsible for your own experience.
Nobody can tell you if what you’re doing is good, meaningful or worthwhile. The more compelling the path, the more lonely it is.

9. Everybody has their own private Mount Everest they were put on this earth to climb.
You may never reach the summit; for that you will be forgiven. But if you don’t make at least one serious attempt to get above the snow-line, years later you will find yourself lying on your deathbed, and all you will feel is emptiness.

27. The best way to get approval is not to need it.
This is equally true in art and business. And love. And sex. And just about everything else worth having.

(Oh, just go read it. It’s great stuff.)

Point is, since I’m in the middle of a (long overdue) redesign of the site, and I’m in Brainstorm Central for new Belly Timber-related projects, this resonates. Oh, how it resonates.

And, I think it’ll resonate with a great many fellow food bloggers now that we’re in the middle of the Great Cheese Sandwich Controversy of 2006, because what is this all about if not celebrating our diversity to blog about food any damn which way we want to — including singing praises to the Mighty Cheese Sandwich?

Non-bloggers (and yeah, I’m generalizing a teensy bit) don’t get it. They seem to think we’re all on the same page. We all want to put up a professional front. We all want attention from the print media. We’re all gunning for that elusive golden ring of getting noticed or better yet, landing that coveted book contract. (Silly non-bloggers; such a narrow view.) Truth is, many of us are here for the fun, or for the community, or (to steal from Alton Brown) we’re just here for the food.

Some of us are professional creative types in our other lives; some not. Some of us know full well what it’s like to be on the receiving end of criticism (hell, someday let me dig up the snarkfest of a review I received for my production of Titus Andronicus; it’s got serious trash-the-director entertainment value); some of us are new to it. No matter. If we didn’t think we could handle criticism with grace, or humor, or snark or however we damn well please to handle it, we wouldn’t be here, would we?

Which brings me to my fourth wonderful snippet from How To Be Creative:

19. Sing in your own voice.
Picasso was a terrible colorist. Turner couldn’t paint human beings worth a damn. Saul Steinberg’s formal drafting skills were appalling. TS Eliot had a full-time day job. Henry Miller was a wildly uneven writer. Bob Dylan can’t sing or play guitar.

But that didn’t stop them, right?

Exactly. (And oh lord, do I agree about Dylan…)

Point is, not all of us are skilled bloggers. We’ve got strong points; we’ve got weak points. I suck ass at restaurant reviews, and I don’t particularly like describing how food tastes because I am terrified of the bad Iron Chef Judge food cliché. (”Oh, this dish is so profound! The flavors in my mouth — they make me so happy!”)

(That’s three gulps in the Iron Chef Drinking Game, right there, by the way.)

Some of us are still learning how to take decent food photos. Some of us are timid in the kitchen and stick to the strict following of tried-and-true cookbook recipes. Is that wrong? Is that bad?

More importantly, is it a reason for us to give up blogging?

(Obvious answer: hell no. We blog for ourselves, first, dammit.)

Anyway, I’d have lots more to say on this, but Chopper’s due home from work and he’s going to be awfully grumpy if I don’t spiff up and resize all those photos I took of what we ate for dinner.