Merry Christmas, Adam!

red silk bow copyIt’s late. After 2am on Christmas eve. My sister and I have just eaten the cookies and drunk the milk that her children left for Santa Claus. We have finished wrapping the presents and the last stocking has been stuffed. But there’s still one more gift to prepare. I’m not sure if this is a gift for me or my husband Adam. Maybe both.

A few weeks ago, Adam proposed that we write a blog together. He had noticed that this blog was languishing–my initial efforts to write this blog were somewhat stymied by the time commitments of my new job at Duke Press and the on-again/off-again nature of my cookbook project with Scott–and he thought sharing the blog would give us both an informal place to share something that is usually a solo endeavor. I have to say, I wasn’t very enthusiastic about this idea. After all, writing is solo for a reason, right? I felt like this was my private space. Also, Adam writes so easily, so consistently, and so …uh… lengthily. I wasn’t sure I wanted to share my little corner of the internet with so active a voice. Nonetheless, I promised I’d think about it.

I didn’t have to think long before I realized that I must have been planning for this eventuality from the get go. I mean, “Plate Discipline”? I might as well have just called it “Adam and Heather” or “Baseball and Food” or anything else that expresses our coincidence of interests. But just because I wrote a dissertation on food and Adam writes about baseball (check out his most recent work at doesn’t mean we will stay within our tidy distinctions. Maybe he’ll use Plate Discipline to write about food; or maybe I’ll decide to write about baseball; or maybe neither one of us will write about either of those topics. And maybe I’ll maintain my radio silence and he’ll take over. I don’t know what will happen going forward, but I want to use this post to say, Merry Christmas, Adam. Merry Christmas and welcome. Your password and user id are under the tree.


This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.