I can't remember a time in my life when I wasn't interested in food, or when I didn't equate meals with exciting, fervent, and sometimes heated conversation with friends and family. It always meant community to m. We weren't really a family focused on cooking elaborate meals, either - so even if we were at a chain restaurant or just eating burgers and snap beans in the backyard, we were talking about food (which might have had an influence on those 'talks too much' comments on all of my report cards).

Growing up in a small, rural town in southern Indiana meant that while there was ample acreage dedicated to farms, there wasn't much in the way of restaurants or substantial food education, and our grocery's organic produce section didn't appear until after I left for college (the closest I got to organic was taking Annie's Mac and Cheese to high school for lunch, and nobody understood why it wasn't electric orange.).

Trying to recall the 'aha' moment for me is kind of like pointing blindly to a page filled with food anecdotes that all overlap - it was more of a gradual thing. I could say that it was the revelation of eating chilled eggplant soup (soup, cold!?) at the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island, Michigan when I was 14, or the young pecorino I devoured in Italy at Casa del Vino, or tasting the bright grapefruit notes in Bell's Two Hearted Ale for the first time. Everything mattered, but, while it feels cliche saying this, my collective experience of food and drink culminated in New York. Beer had also always been an interest of my (adult) life in Bloomington, Indiana - where I attended college and grad school. Bloomington's a beer town, but I couldn't believe the access I had to good beer in New York - it felt absurd!

I originally moved to NYC to work in communications for cultural institutions, which I did for several years. Early on, even while immersed in the insular New York art world, I was fortunate to become acquainted with chefs, urban farmers, purveyors, and small business owners - people like Matt Ross and Eric Finklestein of Court Street Grocers, Kari Morris of Morris Kitchen, Eli Sussman of Mile End Deli, Nina Brondmo of Bakeri, so many more - in the city that inspired me. I thought "These are my people, and they are working in a field that I'm also passionate about, maybe more so than art."  At some point in 2011, I answered a volunteer call for a fledgling food-book-focused event - what is now the 3-years-old and wildly expanding Food Book Fair - and met Elizabeth Thacker Jones, the visionary behind the festival. Soon after, I realized that there is a place where food culture and food systems intersect, and that the people at the nexus of those groups were affecting real change in the way we eat, the way we think about food (and beer!), and the ways agriculture will need to adapt in the future.  I wanted to be a part of that change.

I was lucky enough to find it on Good Food Jobs! After making the difficult decision to risk everything I'd worked for building a visual arts administration career (it just didn't feel right anymore) and jump to the food and beverage industry, I assumed the helm of the communications team for the 3rd annual Food Book Fair. I met and engaged with so many people whom I instantly admired - people like Bryant Terry, Ava Chin, George Weld, Evelyn Kim, Jeni Britton Bauer - and the best part was that they listened to me, even as a new face to the food world. My ideas and thoughts were valid. There were even aspects of food and art that I saw co-mingling - especially in the fair's collaboration with Performa on a pop-up Brew Pub with artist Eric Steen - and that was exciting. I knew then that I had made the right decision.

The fair wrapped up, and I began planning my next steps. While perusing GFJ one day, I saw a marketing position with Brooklyn Brew Shop, a beer making company based in Brooklyn. I was immediately drawn to the job description and the company story, and with my ever-growing interest in beer making (in addition to loving craft beer), I decided to apply. I met Erica and Stephen - the co-founders and owners - and knew right away it was a great fit. I feel lucky to be surrounded by a tight-knight, collaborative team that I love working with, talking to people about our products every day (because I truly believe our beer is amazing!), and being a part of a larger movement toward food and drink consciousness that includes a return to the kitchen. Erica and Stephen's vision 5 years ago, starting out of the Brooklyn Flea, has grown into an international company - they are incredible entrepreneurs and I couldn't ask for better bosses to learn from and work for.

Describing to someone what I did working in museums was similar to what people in food go through all the time. You tell people you work in a museum, and they assume you are a curator. You tell people you work in food, and people assume you are a chef. You tell people you work in beer, and they think you work at a brewery. Finding the conversation after that, and getting someone to go beyond their preconceived notions of an industry, was something I felt I already knew how to do! Explaining conceptual contemporary art to the public, too, really prepares you to explain anything.

I am also grateful and humbled by the mentors I've been able to work for throughout the years. Meg Liffick - who worked for the Indianapolis Museum of Art and is now at Butler University - was an amazing influence. Betsy Ennis and Keri Murawski - my colleagues at the Guggenheim Museum - bought me Ottolenghi's Jerusalem cookbook when I left (instead of some tacky going away gift) and always read my freelance food writing with excitement. Elizabeth Jones, obviously, inspires me every day. Brian Jacobs at Frankie's 457 was the best general manager I could have asked for in a New York restaurant. And, as if I couldn't get more sappy, my parents, who have never thought my half-baked, hair-brained ideas for careers were too crazy and who have always offered me incredible support.

Being honest with myself, which meant cold-turkey quitting the art world. There were several times during my job search where I regretted my decision and thought that if only I had stayed put I wouldn't be emotionally or financially struggling at that time. But the truth is that we see the past through rose-colored glasses, and I knew in my heart that I hadn't been happy. Being surrounded by supportive friends and family made the biggest difference through that time, and I did what I had to do to make it work. I got a hosting job and took on freelance work. I didn't settle for the first position that was offered. I wanted to be a part of a small team where I could make a large impact, where I could work around other people passionate about food and beverage, and who wanted to continue to move forward all the exciting conversations revolving around what and the way we eat and drink that have started.

I'm extremely interested in the funding and investment structure for small food businesses right now. It's a huge part of the industry that requires a good amount of buildout still. There was a component to the Food Book Fair that's getting its own 3-day festival this year - Food + Enterprise - that opened my eyes to that side of the world.

Slow Money NYC - headed up by Derek Denckla - is really making this part of the conversation and I think that's super important. Connecting small food enterprises who often have an amazing idea or an incredible business plan to the right types of funders is key to addressing structural problems in our food and drink economy.

What else? Craft beer.