Ho ho hell yeah holiday!

I can't remember the last time I was so excited for the holidays. After 5 years of living in Atlanta,  my family is spending Christmas her! With me! I've been north once for Christmas,  but I have never had the opportunity to see all of the people I love here at one time. I am so happy I'm not only getting a real Christmas tree, but I'm actually deep cleaning my house. :D And frankly,  that has been needed since I moved into the damn place. My family was good enough to get a hotel room, but there is no freaking way I'm making my nephew open gifts in his hotel room. I can't wait!
Even better, they're going to be in town long enough for me to take them to Proof & Provision,  my favorite bar ever. Ironically,  in the past week I have managed to meet more employees from there and the Georgian Terrace Hotel in general,  so not only will this holiday season be fantastic,  but my birthday in March? Going to be goddamn epic. So excited. Even better? J's coming to visit this evening.  I am damn near retarded I am so happy.

Homey Homies

I recently had the pleasure of cooking with a friend.  Not, I-cook-for-him or He-cooks-for-me, but an actual collaboration meal that we planned together,  shopped for, and executed as a team. I can't remember the last time I did that. I forgot how nice it was. 

It really hit home why I enjoy food so much- aside from the incredible flavors you can unearth,  it brings people together. I'm far too lazy to do any kind of real study, but I doubt I would be remiss in saying that people who live to eat vs eat to live are exponentially happier.

Plus, cooking together is just plain fun! Nobody is bored, and conversation doesn't stop. Add wine, and it damn near becomes a party. This entire experience has made me happy enough that, when I am in a position to do so again, "family meals" are going to be a regular occurrence at my place. Friends, family, train hoppers- whoever has time and is hungry will be welcome at my table. No exception. 

In the meantime, I find myself working crazy hours this weekend, so Saturday night/eeeeearly Sunday morning when I got home, I threw a crapload of stuff in a crockpot I found at Salvation Army for $3. I'm calling it SoCo Stewp.

Stewp is what I'm calling the watery stews my father specialized in.  Stew-soup, get it? This particular one is made with:

1 lb stew beef
1 russet potato, small diced
2 long celery stalks, sliced small
2 roma tomatoes,  diced
1 cup of grated carrot
1/2 medium white onion, small diced
1 qt veal stock
Juuuuust enough water to cover all of the ingredients
Salt to taste
Lemon pepper to taste
1 oz Southern Comfort 100 Proof

Directions:

1. Gather all of your shit together that you'll need
2. Put it all in the crockpot
3. Keep the crock pot on high heat for 2 hours, then go work or fuck off for 14 hours with that sucker on low heat. Stewp's done when the potato pieces are tender and or mushy. Again, to taste.

Simple, pretty basic, and the booze gives it complexity and me an excuse to get rid of that godawful liquor. Everyone wins!

Nights at a Round Table

For supposedly being part food blog, I have done shockingly little writing about food. Probably because I have been eating like crap lately.  Between wonky scheduling and still clearing remaining debt accrued from lack of pay at former jobs, I've unwittingly been only eating maybe one, two meals a day. Oops. Not good. And the proportion of that that is fast food? J would be ashamed.

It's definitely a tough cycle to break,  though. I get home at the crack of dawn, maybe stopping for Waffle House if I'm starving. Sleep until 2pm, or 4 if it's been a rough night, then make myself a little something and back to work. If I'm lucky enough to have the day off and find myself with friends,  I may eat a bit more as a social thing, but for being so obsessed I can't seem to make time for it. Maybe that's part of why I am so fascinated- I never really get enough.

I love eating with friends, though. It just feels more, I don't know,  familial I guess. The best meals are the ones friends cook for me, though! Don't get me wrong,  I love cooking for my friends. But when they welcome me into their home and make me dinner? I will always be exceedingly greatful. I know the effort that a meal takes, and the value of food in the cupboard. So, much like I value time that people give me, I value any effort they put into feeding me exponentially moreso. And one of these days, when I'm rich and famous?  Every last one of them is getting something special.  I have no idea what, but it's going to kick ass.

Family Meal

WHAT a week! It's been a trying one, but I'm finally comfortable saying I'm in the clear. Good things!

People say, "You can pick your friends, but you can't pick your family." Frankly? That is a load of crap. True, you cannot change your DNA sequence (yet-c'mon, science!), but the theory that blood ties -have- to mean something is outdated and ridiculous to think about.

I mean, really- with all of the nontraditional families out there today, how can one even begin to think that? Adoptions create families. Abuse divides families. And what about foster situations? There is no catch-all family definition. Family is what you create, these days.

On the flipside, that can also mean the opposite is true- sometimes, to have a positive family environment, you have to eliminate peoples' influence as well. I'm not saying literally eliminate people, that's just dumb. However, I recently had to get rid of the man who donated his sperm to my existence in my life. Genetically? Great contribution. As a feeling human being? I would have been better off with a pet rock. This man was barely, if ever, present in my childhood. Once I hit 18, he divorced my mother with little more of an explanation than what we heard from other sources. Once I came to Atlanta, he was a resource for a year-, year and a half-ish while I found my feet. After that, I got a very distinct message that he wouldn't help anymore. So I stopped asking. I learned how to fend for myself. I worked hard, utilized the few lessons he had imparted. And then, when I found myself in a spot of trouble that, for once, I hadn't caused myself- I thought he would help. And he agreed... Before he backed out. Effectively, he lied to me. The way he was behaving? He never intended to help me in he first place. He betrayed me, and for that, I cannot have him in my life anymore. He is no longer welcome here. Why would I willingly include a lying, untrustworthy person who has never really seen fit to respect my mind in my life? I'm not that dumb anymore.

In some respects, it should probably be sad. But how am I supposed to care for a person that, if I met him as a peer, I wouldn't want to be friends with him anyway? You can't ask me to feel bad for feeling indifferent. Especially since I have had more than enough truly paternal male figures in my life to make up for it.

I guess what I'm getting at is, don't ever let yourself feel bullied into a family relationship you aren't comfortable with. Nobody else has lived your life, and they have no right to weigh in on your experiences. Adopt families as you meet them, whether they are your dysfunctional coworkers, or someone you met while looking like your shittiest. The best familial bonds are the ones you actually want to nurture, not the ones you feel obligated to.