My Mom's Hands

I like hands. The shape, the capability, the symbolism, the idea- everything about hands fascinates and intrigues me. Without hands, people would legit not be where we are. Thumbs are magnificent in their own right! And the older I get, the more thankful I get for my hands.

Today, on International Women's Day, I am more and more thankful that I was lucky enough to inherit my mother's hands. Not just the structure, but the expression, the fluidity- and my favorite, the capability. My mother was strong, though she has never given herself the credit she deserved. She grew up one of nine in a catholic household, proving herself resourceful in her high school years by sneaking jeans past her mother's watchful eye. She was a good girl, and in the family tradition, went into the Marine Corps. She stepped on those yellow feet at Parris Island, repelled off the tower, and prepared herself for a military lifestyle. She got it, albeit in a different method- she married my father, and gathered her strength to leave her dream to support his for the following 20 odd years. She raised three kids virtually alone, jumping from base to base and circumstance to circumstance.

At my father's retirement, he granted her the kindness of retiring to Maine to be closer to her family while they helped my grandmother pass. They settled into a little town, that frankly, we all hated. But it was affordable and close. We grew into a house that had a lime green tub and matching sink. And in 2007, my father burnt the happy family to the ashes. My mother gathered her strength again. She mourned, as we all did, but she was the one who had to pick up the remains of her abandoned life and recreate it. Us kids were already preparing for fresh new lives, so we had it easier.

My mom is now happily living in Virginia, with a man who truly loves her and treasures what a gift she is. My mom is not a loud woman, but she is fierce; she is not aggressive but she will not hesitate to keep your damn fork out of her slice of cake, thank you very much. She is giving, kind, forgiving- and so much more. Her hands are not large, but the power she has echoes through them. The fingers that used to dismiss us to our rooms, the quick strokes stirring pasta sauce- each story imprinted on on my memory.

I am not my mom, though I have been discovering her power in my hands. Every time I wave my hands along to a story, or angrily point a clueless driver in the correct manner to make a left turn, her hands are there. My hands are more beaten and scarred from years in kitchens, but they have figured out that stirring method to a T. And, though it may embarrass her to have this revealed, our middle fingers have the exact same reaction speed these days.

So thank you, Mom. You have given me more than I ever asked for and that you will ever know. Tonight, I drink to you, your sacrifices, and all of your future happiness. Happy International Women's Day!

Horseshoes and Hand Grenades

When I was first starting in restaurants, my first boss used to tell me, "Almost doesn't count except in horseshoes and hand grenades... and not always in horseshoes, but ALWAYS in hand grenades." It took me years to even get a basic idea of what that meant, but the older I get, the more sense it makes.
I recently got dumped. And to be fair, it was for the best. He and I had very different life goals, and we each discovered deal breakers about the other that we can't get past. We're still cordial. But it still stings. I was willing to go ALL in, and the realization he wasn't even nearly that close to my level hurt. I play with hand grenades. He plays with horseshoes. I do wish him the best in life, but this really solidified what my goals are in life, and the dating arena. Almost is never going to be good enough for me. I might be able to tell myself that I'd be fine with less than I deserve, and I probably could be. But what the fuck would the point be?
I am old enough to realize that I would much rather be single, and spend my days alone, than be with someone who will make me feel lonely. I am a fascinating, complicated human being, and I deserve every single happiness on my terms. I don't need much, I'm pretty uncomplicated. But being more familiar with what my dealbreakers are is going to do wonders for me.
I have a lot of plans ahead. A lot of wonderful adventures in the works. I will never have time for a halfassed game of horseshoes. I've got to be ready and willing to pull the pin, and let my hand grenade fly.

Perfect Day

Today was a great day.

I got to wake up to a man I care about deeply. I went to lunch with an amazing woman I'm proud to call a friend, and see an old coworker who is doing so well for himself. My lady friend and I got to indulge our inner children and watch a musical that meant the world to us. I treated myself to a fantastic dinner that was helmed by another former coworker who has done wonders for himself and his new family. And I got to cap my evening off with a dear old friend, his wife, and new friends. I'm walking home now, full and full of love and a tad tipsy, and all I can think about is just how lucky I am. Lucky to live in such a fashion that has introduced me to all of these wonderful people, and to work in such an industry where I can walk into two totally different establishments and feel like I've stepped into my own Cheers. The restaurant industry is hard. So very, very hard. But days like today make it beyond worth it, and I can't wait to create this kind of a day for someone else. The kind of day where you can walk around with ramen broth all over your shirt and not give any fucks. Where you can eat until you hurt, not because you're hungry, but because you know someone busted their ass on a dish and you know you'd regret missing it.
Restaurants are hard, but they are so full of love and passion. I'm so happy to find myself here!!!!

Return to the Blogosphere!

A good idea (in any field) is if you haven't got a clue what you're doing, you should absolutely stop and reconsider. Reorganize. Reboot. No shame in starting over, after all, if you don't have time to do it right the first time, when will you have time to do it at all? (Thanks, John Wooden!)

I stopped writing for a year because I really didn't know where I was going... at all. My writing was aimless, my personal life was sloppy and inconsistent, and I needed to figure out what the hell I was really doing with my life. Ultimately, I'm still not 100% sure on that front. I've got a lot of options ahead and I'm thankfully in a very flexible field I adore. But life's definitely gotten more stable. My dog and I are in a cute studio I can comfortably afford, my bills are all paid mostly on time for the first time...frankly ever. I even have a human being who likes spending time with me on the regular! It's pretty exciting. And so delightfully average. I absolutely love it. And I feel comfortable enough to start writing again.

Writing about the cooking I'm doing, the events I work, the weird little freelance life I'm building alongside my day job. I can't guarantee this blog will always best filled with ridiculous stories and weird adventures, but hopefully it'll bring a smile to your face!

Cheers~

Up in Smoke

August in Atlanta is a beast. Humidity hangs in the air, making frequent showers a necessity. Cicadas rattle through the trees in the hot sun, and storms breeze in and out in mere minutes. It's the last screams of summer, before the whole city starts to cool in September.

This summer back home has been great. I have finally begun to strike a solid work- social life balance. Granted, I'm still hanging out with cooks, but who else would I ever want to hang out with? I had the pleasure of introducing a friend of mine from California to a group of motley industry folk a few nights ago, at a proper southern pig roast! Twenty or thirty of us cycled in and out of this party throughout the night, and it was such a perfect example of southern hospitality.

For starters, we had SO. MUCH. FOOD. Our menu consisted of a 45lb pig, at least a dozen steaks, 2 whole chickens, corn on the cob, smoked potatoes, massive zucchini, oysters, and charcuterie out the wazoo. Someone brought salad, but the poor thing lay neglected on the table the entire night. Beer and conversation flowed, and paper plates were ignored in favor of just ripping the feast apart by hand like Vikings. Smoke perfumed the air, and strangers bonded over the picnic tables. Stories were shared, and true to the climate, the skies opened up for a brief downpour (Thank god for covered pavilions!). It was really energizing to be around such positive people just having a great time. It was the perfect end to my summer.

Now I'm getting ready to start working at a new place- a restaurant I have revered for years, and can honestly say I'm proud to work for. I'll be serving tables, but this won't be like other restaurants I've waited at: this is one of the greatest restaurants in the southeast (if not the country). This is my food nerd dream career step! So cheers to perfect closures and new beginnings! This fall is going to be fantastic.

Recycling

Last night, I meandered the streets of Atlanta at 1am for the first time in over a year. Heat lightning crested in the sky, and a quick sprinkle wet the asphalt and released that perfect warm, humid smell. I looked around, and streets that used to be littered with garbage and junkies were now quieter, cleaner. I passed the Masquerade, and a neighborhood that used to scream dirty now was dressed in gentrification. It was strange to see.

In many ways, I have been feeling like I wound up exactly where I left off when I left Atlanta last August. Same job, same friends, same very awkward encounters with people I was in no way prepared to see. But my walk last night reminded me that really, I'm not the same person. While I did go back to my old job, I'm on track for bigger and better things. I have way more patience for myself (and my cooking) than I've ever had. I'm in the midst of my own revitalization, much like Ponce City Market is helping my favorite city grow.

I still have a lot of my old bad habits. But I've made some better choices. And now, I'm exactly where I need to be to keep improving, keep moving forward, and make my mark in my chosen career path.

Venturing Forward

I'm not one to profess any sort of belief in fate. In fact, the idea of it, from a logic standpoint, is just downright silly. But occasionally coincidences stack up just enough to make me curious if the universe is trying to tell me something. And, being that I have a tendency to be a bit dense, sometimes it takes quite the smack upside the head for me to get it.

My week in Atlanta was an incredible whirlwind of reminiscing and reminders of why I left in the first place. The Food and Wine festival was an absolute blast, and every aching muscle and drop of sweat was worth it. It really brought attention to the sense of community amongst all southerners (be they Carolinian, Georgian, or anything else) that I've been missing so much. And then my world got an extra little shake up that solidified things for me. So I'm going back south.

Now, I am going to try to move to Nashville, but there is a very real possibility that I will be back in Atlanta for a few months before that happens- a lot is up in the air. But beyond that, I am finally ready to take advantage of some of the opportunities I pushed aside because I thought I couldn't hack it. I'm finally wearing my grown-up shoes, and I'm ready to create the life I want. Unfortunately, my wine studies may wind up taking a back burner, since the sudden move is going to utterly drain my meager savings, but I have a much better game plan for moving on, and moving forward. California has been an eye-opening, wonderful chapter, and I am finally ready to live for me again and not spite or misguided altruism. And this time, I am not getting waylaid by my tendency to take others emotional well-being on as my responsibility!

Humanist Rant

I was elated. I hopped out of the Schwartz,  the battered old piece of shit van that it is, and squealed for joy. *I* had just fixed a major wiring problem!  All by myself!  (Ok, sure, a wire had just jiggled loose and I reconnected it, but considering that one wire controlled everything electronic in the thing, starter motor included? I am fucking proud of that!) I had parked outside of work, and was about to warn the owner that the van was staying put for a few days until I was able to take it to a repair shop next Tuesday.  One of the bartenders saw me first.

"Holy shit!" He exclaimed, clearly shocked, "You're a girl!"

"Last time I checked!" I am wearing a skirt and knee-high black boots today with a flattering turtleneck sweater. Not the usual jeans-tshirt-apron-bandanna look he was used to.

"Are you sick? On the run? Do you need an alibi?"

Sigh.

That one little convo has been repeated in my life more than anything should be. It has only recently began to bother me because frankly, after 11 years' in this industry,  why is it still surprising? 

I recently read 'Blood, Bones, and Butter' by Chef Gabrielle Hamilton, and finally found a chef I can relate to out of the countless memoirs I've read. She, like myself, got into this industry by accident. She, like myself, has stayed because we don't know how to really do anything else  (well, she's an amazing writer, but she's also got a few years on me. Lucky her.). And she,  much like  myself, could not figure out why in the fuck being a woman in commercial kitchens is still a discussion point.

It dawned on me today, and this spans all industries,  that people have ceased to discern the difference between People and Careers. Van living has driven home a personal belief of mine that I do not ultimately want to be defined by my Career, but by how I have lived. The trouble with this, however, is I am constantly being evaluated by my feild of work. I am a Cook. I am a Server. I am a Beer Store Clerk. I am a Manager. I am a Chef.

No.

I am a Human Being. You are a Human Being. Everyone is a Human Being.

Yes, certain stereotypes can be made in various career feilds. However, at the end of the day, if I choose to wear skirts and pick flowers or do other girly shit, it is because I AM A HUMAN BEING THAT ENJOYS THOSE THINGS. I am an accidental chef out of a passion for food and a decent dose of spite acquired by working in the industry. The discussion should not be, "How has being a woman in ex-and-such feild affected the status quo", and it definitely shouldn't be a pissing contest between genders. The discussion needs to be, "As a human being, are you capable of the work, and do you enjoy it?" Otherwise, it opens the door for overblown Michelin-starred assholes to discredit an entire portion of the workforce (I'm not bothering to link that article because frankly, fuck that guy) and for shit like GamerGate to be a thing (Google it if you want to lose your faith in people entirely ).

I am a chef. I am also a girl, a friend, a lover, a collegue, a bit obscene, and polite to people whom I respect. I will continue to live exactly as I deem fit, career be damned. And I hope, for all that is right in the world, People figure out that They are worth far more than whatever price their Career has assigned them.

Commute

When we last left your heroine (me), I was on the cusp of a major freak out in the Schwartz.  Since then, I have adjusted way better to a nomadic life, and as of yesterday,  finally unpacked my books in it to really organize and make it "home"!

The adjustment process was definitely weird for me. I found myself trying to be more social, and making more time to spend wih the Barista and an old friend from my Maine days that happens to be in Petaluma for the month. I did kind of revert to my old workaholic ways, but to a lesser degree han what it was. Currently,  I have a full-time job cooking at a brewpub in Healdsburg, and then when I'm not doing that, i drive an hour and a half souh to San Francisco where I work on a food truck. So while technically,  I am scheduled to work 7 days a week,  that really hasn't been happening. The food truck pays better, and will have some excellent potential benefits involved, but at the moment is far too inconsistent and iffy for me to commit to it. Like this week- I was supposed to work last night and today. I was told not to bother, business was too slow. So on the one hand, I have gotten to spend more time with my friends in Mountain View, and got some serious work done on a pet project of mine (more on that in a bit!), but I have lost out on a significant chunk of change that I could really use at the moment. However, it's not worth it to quit the food truck and find a more dedicated gig, because on Friday night, they are letting me work an event serving a country artist I am a huge fan of! Besides, this surprise time off is great for my mental health right now. Really focusing on me and forcing myself to deal with some things I have been avoiding is making me feel like I'm finally really growing into myself.

Now, as for that lovely pet project... I'm not going to really go into details until I have solid *stuff* to show off. Just know that it is everything I love about being a food nerd, and writing for it has energized me in a way I haven't felt in yeeeeeeaaaaaaaaars. Look for something... mmmm... next week. Pretty confident I'll have something to show for this silliness. :)

Eggs

Happy New Year!  And I am beyond excited to begin it. After an insane holiday season, I am ready to kick my year into top gear and really kick ass this year. I was lucky enough to have my immediate family in town, and we had a great Christmas day. I had worked the night prior, so they were kind enough to let me sleep in a bit- we opened gifts at 2, then proceeded to go make Christmas dinner. That consisted of a massive 8 pound ham and 2 trays of lasagna- very italian gorge-fest merged with my sister-in-law's ham tradition. We ate ALL afternoon. And we drank. All afternoon. We had a blast! My friend Robin even made an appearance with her amazing homemade pickles, an excellent wine, and toffee. Everything tasted fantastic,  and getting to connect with the family again made my day.
I did get an incredibly meaningful gift a few days afterward- my own copy of "On Food and Cooking" by Harold McGee. I had been borrowing my friend Darrell's copy for a few weeks, and the book fascinates me. It's essentially a big textbook about the science of food, and I loved it. Well, he was kind enough to get me one, and I couldn't be happier. It's incredibly informative,  and really helps me connect what I want to do with food with the actual reactions that will commence during cooking. It's brilliant. And it has taught me more about eggs than I ever thought. And that's just one small portion.
When I was in my culinary classes in high school, the second lesson after the Sanitation class was egg cookery. That class in particular sticks out for me for many reasons- for one, I remember being surprised that we were going to spend 4 hours just talking about eggs. And I was a little grossed out- we were focusing on fried and scrambled eggs, and I was not a fan at the time. Still not overly fond of them, to be honest, but I'll actually eat them nowadays. We went over basic breakfast preparations, and how to crack the egg one-handed, and how to flip the egg in the sauté pan sans a spatula. When I tried my first flip, my yolk and white somehow separated, flipped simultaneously, and then broke in the pan. It was surprising to watch, and I promptly forgot about it. Fast forward 8 years later, and I have found myself eating and cooking eggs more often than ever, especially completely different preparations than I have ever tried.
With my new book, eggs have become far less mysterious, and far more important to me. They are so incredibly versatile, and now that I know what the hell I'm doing with them, they are actually pretty tasty. I've found I make a freaking awesome Sunnyside-up.
It's a cool juxtaposition that eggs, the symbol of rebirth in some cultures, has also found itself at the biggest culinary steps in my life. And nowadays, I'm very interested to see what else I can do with them. So here's to 2014, y'all! Let's see where it takes us!

Growth Spurt

My nails have been painted for two weeks straight.

For the first time in over a year.

It is incredible to me. Actually having the free time to do and maintain them, and NOT be panicking over not working? Why, I may actually be becoming a real human being!

Maybe it's because I'm finally not stressed about money as much anymore- it's still a bit tight at the moment,  but I know that it will be fine soon. I'm finally earning enough to mentally justify time off. I can finally repay debts to friends,  and family, and before the year ends. I haven't been able to say that... ever. I will be able to have a not - heinous credit report by December.  In a shockingly roundabout way, I am finally becoming the adult I've thought I should be.

That excites me. It excites me a lot. Because along with the knowledge that I am finally a real adult, in age and in mindset, I will finally feel comfortable pursuing the "grown-up" goals I set for myself years ago- maintain a healthy relationship. Have a child. Return to improv comedy. Start my bar.

My new job is teaching me a lot. Especially about how much I still need to learn. But instead of wanting to throw a fit and bust heads, Adult Me is allowing myself to be calmer, more analytical.  It's a nice change of pace from the ridiculous amounts of anxiety I used to cling to.

Best part?

Adult Me still totally justifies gummi bears for breakfast.  :D

Cue the Elton John, the Bitch is Back!

WHAT a crazy few months! Did NOT mean to be disconnected for as long as I was.

For starters, my employment situation has changed drastically.  I am now once again back to one solo job, that I have been adoring so far. I am now a bar/event manager at a local 18+ nightclub, so far that means I watch college kids hump and "twerk" for a decent salary.  It's like watching my own personal episode of COPS every night.

Also, J and I have been progressing in a positive way! We are about to hit  the 10 month mark, and it looks as if we may be having another "define the relationship" talk soon- the good kind!

Otherwise,  I discovered that I had been a hermit for far too long, so I have been getting out more and spending time with my friends and favorite bartenders. All in all, good things! Current goals are simply to get out of debt and keep J and I's relationship going strong. I have a lot of cool career stuff that will be coming up soon to focus and blog on, so that should be fun for everyone to peek in on! Much love, guys, and thanks for coming back!

Sure, Why Not?

I want to get a tattoo. I have many, but I want to get a few more. The next one I have planned? Simple script, emblazoned down my outer forearm; that reads, "Sure, Why Not?" J is a bit reticent about that one. He's never cared about my tattoos, but this one seems to be a bit 'out there' for him. I'm not sure he realizes just how significant this will be for me.

Decisions are a major part of everyone's life. They create us and our future trajectory. Many can also be mistakes. I have made many, many decisions. A lot could be called mistakes as well. However, for a few years I have made "Sure, why not?" a large part of my life. Consequently, I have done a lot of stupid shit. But I don't regret any of it.

See, at the very least, I will be able to live without regrets because I have tried all kinds of ideas- good ones, bad ones, good ideas that made me miserable, etc. I will never have the opportunity to wonder, "what if?" because I already did it. Opportunities fall at me because people know I'm willing to try something at least twice.

On the flip side, doing all of the dumb things will ultimately make me a better parent. All of the big talks are going to be crazy-awkward, yeah, but I will have first-hand experience of the consequences that I can fill my future kids in on so if they go off and do it anyway, they got an informed warning.

So my tattoo will be more than a tattoo. It will be memories, opportunities, and warnings. And most of all, it will be a reminder to me to stay open-minded, and try everything at least twice. Cheers!