Food Blogger Bake Sale for Share Our Strength

Something I would never expect happened to me today. I was browsing in the baking section at one of my favorite cooking supply stores and day dreaming about baking. I know. It’s a miracle. Or maybe it’s the Food Blogging Bake Sale for Share our Strength that’s got me thinking about something other than getting over my fear of baking.

Today is a day dedicated to all things baked because I’m helping with all sorts of preparations for tomorrow’s nation wide bake sale. The second annual Los Angeles Foodblogger Bakesale—organized by the fabulous and extraordinary Gaby of What’s Gaby Cooking—is the flagship city for the nation-wide event that gathers the nation’s top bloggers/food writers/and chefs to raise money for Share our Strength, an organization striving to eradicate childhood hunger in America by 2015. I’m excited to be part of this talented pool of food lovers who are gathering up all their best baked goods to bring awareness to this very real problem that’s happening in your city and, more than likely, in your neighborhood.

I couldn’t think of a better reason to spend all day in the kitchen.

Several months back I shared a deeply personal story about a difficult time in my life when I was a hungry kid. Luckily, childhood hunger wasn’t something I had to face for a very long time, but those early experiences of asking for help and being denied assistance changed me. Having a door slammed in your face when you’re a hungry kid has a way of affecting your relationship with food and the rest of the world. It’s taken me a long time to feel comfortable sharing my story, but I knew it was important to reveal the honest truth to bring light to a subject matter that many people believe only affects a marginal group of people in our country.

But the fact is, at least one kid in ten is hungry in America. Not just in the cities. Not just in the poor rural areas. In just about every school in America, there are kids struggling to find food to fill their empty bellies.

There’s more hunger in the classrooms than you’d care to believe. In rural and urban schools, a majority of kids (65%) aren’t getting fed well at home and must rely on school lunches for their main source of nutrition. Considering the fact that many children must rely on schools to feed them, SOS has a number of summer lunch programs in place to make sure summer vacation is something all kids can look forward to.

So whether or not you are in Los Angeles or are near another city that’s hosting a Food Blogger Bake Sale, you can donate a few dollars here to support the cause. And if you are in Los Angeles and have something of a sweet tooth or want something healthy and good, I highly recommend you swing by BLD (7450 Beverly Boulevard, Los Angeles, CA 90036) for a treat. You will not be disappointed. Continue reading “Food Blogger Bake Sale for Share Our Strength”

May 12August 16

Service 101: Help Me Help You

“I’m not usually a difficult customer,” The Beverly Hills housewife said out of the corner of her red lipsticked mouth. “I just don’t understand why getting me a drink is such a production.”

It was a Friday night and the restaurant was packed. I had spotted the guests’ unhappiness across the room when I scanned the dining room for signals of possible problems. My glance bounced over happy customers curved over plates and full cocktail glasses, and stopped hard against a squared edge of a black suit and the stiff neck of the man wearing it.

I was already moving across the room towards the four-top when the suited man’s friend, a man with gray hair and no drink, swiveled in his chair in search of assistance. I stepped up to the table and took my place next to the ladies perched in their seats. The women were two rigid examples of a 60-something Beverly Hills housewife.

“Good evening,” I said with my most soothing voice of leadership. “May I help you?”

“I should hope so,” the white knuckled man with no drink said. “We’ve been here thirty minutes and our server hasn’t been able to get us a drink.” I nodded. Time warps and stretches into large increments when you’re a desperate for something. I had seen a trusted server working hard to find a single malt scotch for the suited gentlemen, surely their thirty minutes were—in real time—actually just five or six. But in the world of the customer, perception and reality don’t always meet.

The make-up primed blonde housewife continued. “I don’t want anything crazy. I just want a glass of chardonnay.”

I smiled. A deep breath would fuel my calm. This would not be an easy turn around.

Continue reading “Service 101: Help Me Help You”

May 5March 14

Mother’s Day Baking Epiphanies

Before there was fear, there was love.

Baking wasn’t always something that frightened me. When I was a child, baking was something I longed for. The art of bread and baked sweets was something rare and special. It was sacred.

One of my first memories of baking was when I was quite young. Maybe I was in a high chair. Or I was just old enough to be trusted to stand on a chair by myself. In this memory, I watch my mother knead dough on a floured counter top. She has her back to me and her long, wavy brown hair is pulled back into a ponytail that reaches down her back. All is quiet as I watch her move through clouds of dusty flour. She’s creating something beautiful from almost nothing.

Betty Crocker Mother's Day — Little girls like me loved watching her mother bake

My mother baked when she was happy. Baking days were especially bright days when we had enough money to buy all the ingredients and take the day to make food together. We’d play Godspell as loud as the stereo would let us, and we’d bake something from a cookbook. I’d stand at her side and observe my mother like a museum patron observes a piece of art. I’d marvel at her chin, her ocean blue eyes, and her big strong hands as she slipped rounds of dough into a rough ceramic bowl the color of raisins.

When I was tall enough to reach the counter I watched almost jealously, as she mothered the bread. I stole glances of my bready siblings as they crept up and nudged their head-shaped mounds against the canopy of damp cloth that draped above them. When it was time, she’d let me touch the dough so I could feel the life in them. Then she’d pick them up, shape them again, and slip them into the stove to be baked into hearty loaves.

Continue reading “Mother’s Day Baking Epiphanies”

April 29

Ascension and Getting over the Fear of Baking

getting over the fear of baking coffee cake — This is one of a series of essays dealing with my totally unrational fear of baking

Ever since Easter and Passover weekend I’ve been thinking a lot about the world ascension. The word has been looping dramatic arcs through my psyche ever since I took one of those deep, restorative, midday naps last weekend. For over an hour I took in the sleep of the dead. It was the kind of rest that soothes, calms, and heals the wounds of hard work.

When I awoke from my unconscious state, I found my refreshed mind chewing on a single word: Ascension. “Ascension,” my internal voice said to me. “Look it up.”

Though I was happy to go about my day and avoid the quiet nudge, the word wasn’t giving up on me. My mind looped: ascension, ascension, ascension. What was it about this word that needed so much attention? Ascension, ascension, ascension. The sound of the word grew louder and louder until I couldn’t resist its call any longer.

Finally, I surrendered. I gave over to a word.

Well, I mostly surrendered. Rather than commit to a full-fledged literary investigation that included the involvement of a certain large and weighted Webster’s Dictionary that lives on my bookshelf, I instead turned to my computer’s succinct internal dictionary. According to Encarta’s World English dictionary, ascension is not a word that’s included in the basic software. So, as an alternative, I turned to ascend for clues.

I was reminded that ascend means to climb up something, to succeed, and also means to rise up to a higher level. A mountain, a career, a situation, the physical life, or anything else that offers a good challenge can be ascended. A man named Jesus is said to have ascended from death on Easter day. Perhaps this is why the word came to me with such a force. It was just Easter weekend, after all.

But ascension isn’t a word that’s limited to mountain climbers and people of faith. Ascension can be used by all sorts of English speaking people who may or may not believe in the existence of God. So what does ascension have to do with me right now?

Continue reading “Ascension and Getting over the Fear of Baking”

April 16August 16

Service 101: On Becoming the Service Coach

Teaching the art of giving great service is a gift. Thanks to my business as a service consultant, I get the chance to learn on a daily basis that to be of service one must maintain humility, vulnerability, empathy, confidence, and courage in everything I do. I’m discovering that in order to teach the art of service, I must be willing to be of service to everyone and everything, regardless of outcome.

Honestly, when I came up with the big idea to be a service consultant I had no idea what I’d be getting myself into. All this teaching has revealed to me something much bigger is going on: it’s one thing to give good service, but it’s another thing entirely to pursue the vocation of being of service. I never fathomed this consulting business would lead me to the working opinion that I’ve got to be humble enough to be of service to everyone no matter what. The whole idea of putting all others before myself is a tall order for anyone. Especially for someone with a big ego.

Now that I have realized the true job requirements of making a career out of putting other people’s needs before one’s own (humility and selflessness are big challenges), this shifting of perspective and objectives has started working its way into my personal life.

To be honest, I’m not sure how I avoided this transformation for so long.

Teaching the art of service breaks open my life and shows me I have to demolish the way I used to do things. Consequently, my life is experiencing something of a serious renovation.

When I wrote down the words “service consultant” on my dry-erase vision board a dozen months ago, I had no idea the work would have the power to transform my life, let alone pay my bills. I didn’t know what my business would look like, how to come up with a consulting fee, or even what my title (or more importantly what my domain name) should be. All I knew was that I had a unique talent for hospitality and a real passion for understanding the philosophies and ideals behind giving great service. I figured I’d come up with the rest as I went along. Continue reading “Service 101: On Becoming the Service Coach”

April 6April 6

Facing the Fear (of Baking)

cranberry and orange scone — Cranberry and orange scone

Lots of people have odd, irrational fears. I’ve seen good, strong people transform into a buzzing bundle of nerves once something like a cockroach, rat, spider, bee, or other insect came close to their person. I’ve witnessed friends go ghost white around certain kinds of people–like clowns, midgets, IRS representatives, nuns, and cops.

For me, it’s not the little bugs or people in costumes that make me nervous. What really sets my teeth on edge are electric mixers and ice cream makers. Whenever I see a recipe for a cake, cookie, bread, ice cream, or pastry I am held frozen in a moment of panic—because deep down I fear that the process of making the dessert will overload my brain and kill me.

Yes, that’s right. I have an irrational fear of baking*.

Continue reading “Facing the Fear (of Baking)”

March 17January 3

Grilled Lemonade and Kingsford U

Ever since taking Spring’s leap forward time change, the extra hour of sun has me looking for just about any reason to step outside and marvel at the shining quality of our new and improved daylight. I take impromptu walks to the coffee shop for a mid-day pick-me-up and then go the long way home so I can snatch a few more minutes to admire the beautiful light as it clings to the edges of neighbors’ trees.

Yeah. I’m odd that way.

But just when I started to wonder if I was the only one who was looking for a reason to spend a little extra time outside, I began to notice the smell of backyard barbecues floating through the entire stretch of my neighborhood.

Relief swept over me. Thank goodness! I’m not the only one feeling the need to enjoy the outdoors. It’s Spring! It’s grilling time.

Thanks to the generous people at Kingsford*, I’m prepared (and certified!) for the beginning of barbecue season. Last weekend the Kingsford team invited a handful of journalists, food bloggers, and recipe developers like myself to Las Vegas to study the art of BBQ and grilling trends at their annual Kingsford University event. And when the whole thing was over, they even gave me a certificate of proof that I graduated from their grill school.

Continue reading “Grilled Lemonade and Kingsford U”

March 10March 14

Consider the Chocolate: Askinosie Tasting Notes

The writer William Blake said, “For nothing is as pleasing to God except the invention of beautiful and exalted things.” I can only imagine God is quite pleased with the inspired works and bean-to-bar chocolates made by the good people behind Askinosie Chocolate.

I had my first taste of an Askinosie Chocolate bar one year ago and gained access to an entirely new world of flavor. With just the smallest square of a San Jose del Tambo Nibble Bar I suddenly became aware of complex flavors and playful textures I had never experienced before. That rough, dark square of chocolate no bigger than a quarter had more flavor compressed into it than any over-sized, American candy bar I had ever tasted. One bite and I was left transformed by its rich and earthy tannins, hints of smoke, bitter cacao (all seventy-two percent of it), and the satisfying crunch roasted cacao nibs.

One bite of Askinosie’s chocolate made me a chocolate obsessive.

Continue reading “Consider the Chocolate: Askinosie Tasting Notes”

March 5March 30

Consider the Chocolate: Askinosie’s Inspired Bar

Some of the world’s greatest ideas have come in the form of divine inspiration. Einstein once said that important discoveries “seemed to have been ever-present in the universe, waiting to be discovered by the master.” The writer William Blake believed his poetry came directly from God. In the case of Shawn Askinosie, a successful criminal lawyer from Springfield Missouri, the journey to become a celebrated chocolate maker started with a prayer for job advice.

It was 2005, and the trial-weary lawyer was on a road trip to an elderly family member’s memorial service. He had some time on his hands and began praying for insight on a job opportunity. What he heard back from his higher power was startling. It said: “You need to make chocolate from scratch.” It’s anybody’s guess why the successful criminal lawyer (and later his entire family) with absolutely no idea how chocolate is made would heed such improbable career guidance. But heed he did, and what’s resulted has been something much bigger than just some award-winning, small-batch chocolate.

Shawn Askinosie of Askinosie Chocolate — Shawn Askinosie, Founder and Chocolate maker of Askinosie Chocolate. Photo: Askinosie Chocolate

Shawn traveled to the Amazon soon after his road trip epiphany, and began learning about the origins of chocolate first hand. In the sticky heat of the jungle, he watched the fermenting and drying process of the cacao beans. He witnessed the rural cacao farmers tending their crops and struggling to feed their families. Then, while standing under a canopy of trees in the Amazonian rain forest, the gray-haired lawyer experienced another kind of awakening.

Askinosie realized he needed to leave his law practice.

Continue reading “Consider the Chocolate: Askinosie’s Inspired Bar”

February 23February 23

Taste of a Better Life

I was in Ann Arbor, Michigan when everything changed. It was October, and I was like the trees of the college town—tall, proud and newly painted with the vibrant colors of transformation. I was a sight to behold—a woman with a heavy backpack and camera around her neck—proud, energized, and flush with the bright hues of an internal revolution. I glowed with happiness as the passing days brought life-altering change. I gave things up. I invited change. I stopped wasting time. I found a new way of writing. I found a new kind of love. I felt like a long-limbed Maple in full flush.

As pieces of my former-self scattered with the altering winds of November, I embraced the conversion. I begged for change. But by the end of December, I was stripped bare of all that I once was. I was as simple as a line drawing of a tree on a snowy hill.

In the austere simplicity of my new life, I realized I needed to live simply. Like a tree, all that I truly needed was food, water, and the all-powerful light from above. Without these things, I realized I could not thrive. And yet–before the Fall of change—I was living life on much less. Food, wine, and work was all that sustained me. Water and light were an occasional luxury. My roots were never tended.

But now, all of that has changed.

The most significant thing is how much light I have in my life now. And water. For what may be the first time, I seek out nourishment. Food fulfills me, rather than covers or mutes deeper problems. I’ve turned away from the numbing comforts of wine and cocktails and embraced being in the moment fully. I dedicate myself to plugging in, not checking out. I find inspiration everywhere. Now, I shy away from my blog’s stats page and listen to the analytics of my muses.

According to the voices of inspiration, it’s time I start writing about chocolate. Continue reading “Taste of a Better Life”

February 15February 25

Defining Quality, a Food Blogger’s Equation

lexicon of food blogging — *a typographic representation of a simple equation

Though I hate algebra and loathe the fact that I still can’t quite recall the entirety of my multiplications table, equations are my way of making sense of incredibly complex situations. It all started when I was a kid trying to make sense of a chaotic childhood. Equations like mom + dad + siblings = family worked for me. The simplicity of equations helped me skip the confusing parts (arguments, lack of money, bills not getting paid, neglect).

They say that the adult human mind naturally organizes knowledge of the world into systems—or, in my case, basic equations—in order to understand life’s lexicon. Equation-based thinking can be a good thing—until you stop being mindful of the true value of things.

Take for example, this equation:

Food Woolf = Food Blog

Food Blogs ≠ Food Woolf

(Food Woolf is a food blog. Not every food blog is Food Woolf.)

Yeah, I know. That equation is obvious. But you’ll have to be patient with me on this. Because what I’m about to talk about does get a little complicated.

I know that all food blogs are not built to be the same. Yet, there are times when I think we all forget that other blogs aren’t built like ours. We get frustrated. We might even get petty. And sometimes, we can even take other people’s words and acts personally because they don’t share our point of view.

I am a writer and a restaurant professional. I view the world with a very particular point of view. So when I read other people’s blogs, I perceive the work from the perspective of a writer and a restaurant professional. I’m aware that there are plenty of blogs out there that aren’t looking to win any literary awards. And yet, sometimes—when I’m not at my best–I forget that not everyone has the same goals as I do.

Rather than enjoy a blog for what it is, I can get lost in my internal editor mode. I get irritated by things like ALL CAPS rants, two paragraph posts, and words like yummy, drool, and delicious. Thin stories, laundry list posts, and paragraphs filled with empty descriptions can leave me feeling more than unsatisfied. On bad days, I can get judgmental and angry.

But it doesn’t have to be that way. Continue reading “Defining Quality, a Food Blogger’s Equation”

February 13February 13

Happy Valentine’s Day

February 6February 8

Kitchen Love Letters

A wonderful thing happened. My husband started cooking.

The change came about a month ago. It began with breakfast. While I dressed for work he’d slip into the kitchen and brew a pot of our favorite organic coffee and construct a delicate egg white omelet with spinach and goat cheese. When I emerged from the whir of my early morning rituals—hair drying, make up application, multiple outfit changes—I’d find a folded cloth napkin, a perfectly doctored coffee, and a plate of comforting food waiting for me. On mornings when our window of time together was brief, he’d surprise me with a thick slice of bread dripping with melted butter and apricot jelly. I barely had time to notice he had perfected the careful balance of sweet and savory in the fruit smoothies he’d slip to me as I headed out the door.

I started to see a pattern of culinary devotion as he began adding lunches to his repertoire. Rather than visit our usual neighborhood lunch spot, he’d serve us decadent open-faced turkey burgers he grilled that were draped in a blanket of melted cheese or a thick slice of over-ripe persimmon. He’d peel an orange and have it waiting for us when we found ourselves at that inevitable point of the meal when we started to crave something sweet.

Then came dinners. I marveled at his grilled fish on a bed of Israeli couscous with thinly sliced lemons. On another night, he sautéed perfect squares of halibut with a spiced rub and a spicy yogurt sauce with fresh mint. Then there was the time he roasted a whole bird he bought at the farmers market with muddled fennel seeds and thyme.

After those meals his kisses never tasted sweeter.

With my husband at the helm of our kitchen, I’ve begun to relish the stacks of dirty mixing bowls or the skillet that needs a good soak. Because with every food-stained plate comes a piece of the story of what he learned in the kitchen.

I didn’t think it was possible, but every culinary tale makes me love him a little more. Continue reading “Kitchen Love Letters”

January 30February 6

You Are Fascinating

Everybody is talented, original and has something important to say.

I know. That idea is contradictory to what most people will tell you. Everyone is original? Everyone does have a talent? Yes. Every person does have a story to tell. Granted, some stories are flashier than others (especially if you’re an LA girl who marries a cowboy and moves to the ranch to raise cattle) but that doesn’t mean your life (in a tiny apartment in Paris) isn’t worth writing about.

Making something from nothing is daunting. Sustaining the life of your food blog requires commitment and inspiration. Some people turn to friends for creative encouragement. Others seek inspirational stimulation from a good speech, a well-placed sermon, a great movie, a beautiful piece of art, nature, or a workshop. It’s easy to miss the tiny voice of encouragement inside of you when there are plenty of people around feeding you information that cuts away at your self-confidence.

Don’t believe the voices that tell you that what you do isn’t special. You are.

“Remember these two things: you are talented, and you are original. Be sure of that. I say this because self-trust is one of the very most important things in writing.” –Brenda Ueland, “If You Want to Write”

Some notes on finding your voice:

On your way to figure out who you are, take notes. Show your readers—through words—who you are while you cook, shop, and do the things you enjoy.
Don’t try to write in a style you think WE want to read. Write the way you think.
Avoid easy, superficial or automatic language.
Your words should be true, tested inwardly, and based on something that means something to you.

A writing exercise:

Describe who you are when you go to the farmers market. Remember, it isn’t important that you go to the market. It’s who you are when you’re at the market. What makes you happy, nervous, excited, shut down?

Describe who you are when you go to the grocery store. What’s different about you in this place? Is there something that annoys you about the smell of your market? Does the spice/meat/international aisle freak you out?

Tell us: What inspires you to get honest and tell good stories on your blog?

January 20January 21

Deliciously Organic Granola

Carrie Vitt Organic Granola — Deliciously Organic Pecan, Coconut, Cherry Granola

I’m an adventurous eater, but I’m also a creature of habit. I save my bold menu choices for dinner and rely on a handful of trusted culinary customs to ease into my day. I relish the repetition of a cup of coffee with a thick piece of toast with jelly, Greek yogurt with granola, a bowl of cereal, or a poached egg with kale. Sometimes, when I feel the need for easy indulgence, I eat breakfast for dinner.

Thanks to my friend Carrie Vitt and her brand new cookbook, Deliciously Organic (International Focus Press), I’m eating my favorite breakfast food all day long. I eat Carrie’s Granola with dried cherries and pecans when I wake up, as a between meal snack, for dinner, and—I’m loathe to admit–even sprinkled on top of a generous scoop of ice cream.

Carrie’s granola recipe is the perfect example of what is so wonderful about her new cookbook. Deliciously Organic is approachable, full of terrific ideas that aren’t impossible to take on, and stocked with simple adjustments that can make a huge impact on your health and happiness.

Deliciously Organic’s Granola with Dried Cherries, Coconut and Pecans is—by far—the easiest and most satisfying granola recipe I’ve ever made (and I make a lot of granola). Thanks to the presence of a good amount of organic coconut, Carrie’s granola recipe doesn’t call for any oil or butter. Maple syrup and organic cane sugar binds the oats together and creates big ol’ clusters (my favorite part of store bought granola) without requiring unnecessary (and unhealthy) ingredients. Even better, the prep and baking time doesn’t take much more than 30 minutes, which is fast and super easy!

Carrie brings her open personality to the page with bright and happy colors, friendly (and sophisticated) design, helpful tips, and gorgeous, light-filled photos from Helene DuJardin of Tartlette. Deliciously Organic offers readers valuable insights and culinary adjustments that can make a significant contribution to your health without requiring huge sacrifices.

Continue reading “Deliciously Organic Granola”

January 14

Turkey Burger with Hachiya Persimmon

turkey burger persimmon — Herbed Turkey Burger with Ripe Hachiya Persimmon

The food lover understands discord. We seek out skilled chefs who can craft harmonious dishes built from disparate flavors. We marvel at the balance of savory and sweet (fatty piece of earthy foie gras glazed with a crackling caramel glaze), earthy and acidic (a perfect oyster topped with a spoonful of a red-wine and shallot vinaigrette), and salty and sweet (a butterscotch pudding finished with Maldon sea salt).

So then, why is it this food lover gets so confused by the existence of dissonant emotions? Why can’t I feel comfortable with a moment of joy during a moment of crisis? Why shouldn’t I feel a simple happiness during a grief-stricken moment?

I understand how opposing flavors can be compelling and intriguing. But when it comes to holding opposing emotions—fear and excitement, joy and pain, grief and happiness—at the same exact moment, I start to question the validity of my experience. How can I smile when someone I love wants nothing more than to die?

Can we accept the existence of problems—major and minor alike–and still accept the joy, happiness, and pleasures that come our way?

Thanks to an epiphany about acceptance, I’m starting to think the answer is yes.

Life is bittersweet, salty, tart, and lots of other things in between. There’s room for joy and pain in the same instant.

Continue reading “Turkey Burger with Hachiya Persimmon”

January 10March 14

10 Lessons From Food Blog Camp 2011

Sometimes you have to drop off the radar, invest in yourself, and find inspiration to go deeper in your work and life. Maybe that means taking a class, reading a book, studying with a mentor, or attending a conference where you can be surrounded by all sorts of great teachings and insights. Food Blog Camp, a small gathering of some of the food blogging community’s most inspiring leaders, is all of those things in one gorgeous, entertaining, and tropical locale.

food blog camp teachers — Todd and Diane, David Lebovitz, Elise Bauer, Matt Armendariz

For the third year in a row, attendees of the Food Blog Camp are given immediate access to some of the food blogging world’s most talented stars–Matt Armendariz (Matt Bites), Elise Bauer (Simply Recipes), Jaden Hair (Steamy Kitchen), David Lebovitz (David Lebovitz), Adam Pearson (Adam C. Pearson) and Diane Cu and Todd Porter (White on Rice).

This year’s Food Blog Camp event was held in the luxurious Grand Velas Riviera Maya resort in Cancun, Mexico. Infinity pools, gorgeous vistas, heaping bowls full of guacamole, an endless supply of fresh juices, jungle wildlife, and luxury suites (so large I could have moved my entire apartment inside), created an otherworldly feeling that transported imaginations to uncharted places and happy tastebuds. As in past years, the location of the event was key in giving attendees a break in routine so that they could make room for innovative thinking.

gaby drinks lebovitz isle — Gaby Dalkin (What’s Gaby Cooking)

If you are longing for inspiration to bring your blog or website to the next level, I suggest you follow a few of the following lessons and insights from the Food Blog Camp panelists.

Continue reading “10 Lessons From Food Blog Camp 2011”

December 30December 30

A New Year’s Resolution

The morning starts as afternoon. A cotton pillowcase is the first texture of the New Year to greet me. Next comes the crushing pressure in the skull that only champagne and sweet bourbon cocktails can give. Then there’s the dry rub of dehydration on my tongue. My need for water is intense, but that want is superseded by the weight of my hangover.

Happy New Year.

It’s at this moment–the instant when I am overcome with a compelling need for something greasy, unhealthy, and heavy on the bacon–that I remember to write my New Year’s resolutions. Later, over breakfast, I’ll thank my lucky stars I didn’t drink more than I did and then jot something down in a notebook. Waiting until the last minute to write my resolutions was a convenient way of avoiding the deeper work of preparing for a new year. I could easily jot something cheery and hopeful down, post it up by my desk, and then do my best to work towards those goals. If I didn’t hit the mark, it wasn’t a profound loss because I hadn’t invested too much time into my plans.

At least, that’s the way things used to happen.

For what feels like the first time ever, I’m approaching the New Year with a clear vision of what I want to achieve. For almost two months now, I’ve been taking a sober look at my life. I’ve spent the winter holidays alcohol free and have used all the extra time and energy I’ve acquired to figure out what’s my place in the world. I’m wrestling with the question of what’s expected of me as a human being.

This year, I’ve got my resolutions written and a vision for my coming year penned way in advance of the ball dropping. Clearly, when you write your New Year’s resolutions says a lot about where you are at in your life.

Back in what feels like the olden days, I convinced myself that the reason why I waited until the last moment to write out my resolutions was because I needed to let inspiration run through the rough grains of the 365 days of the closing year. But the real reason was that I was afraid to take an honest inventory of my life and see where I was headed. I was perfectly content to skim the surface of my life.

Luckily, things are very different around here this New Years.

Continue reading “A New Year’s Resolution”

December 23August 16

Service 101: Restaurant Christmas

It’s just days before December 25^th and I’m not even close to having my holiday shopping done. In all honesty, I haven’t really started. A stack of holiday cards lay on the dining room table awaiting a final stamp before I send them off. There are no presents under the tree. I don’t have a holiday menu picked out. Not one Christmas cookie has emerged from my oven.

My heart is full of cheer but I just can’t get myself to catch up to all the holiday festivity making. It’s not that I don’t believe in celebrating. I do. It’s just that I’m not like other people. I celebrate a different kind of holiday. I wait until January 25th for a little holiday I like to call Restaurant Christmas.

Restaurant Christmas happens on (or around) January 25^th and looks a lot like your typical Christmas celebration. Restaurant Christmas is about celebrating love, joy and hope. But one big difference is there’s a lot less traffic. Also, airline tickets back home are less expensive, gifts are on sale, vacation is easier to come by, and my family and loved ones are less stressed because they don’t have four different parties to go to and numerous commitments to fulfill on the very same day.

If you have no idea what I’m talking about when I refer to Restaurant Christmas, it’s because Restaurant Christmas isn’t celebrated by many. As a matter of fact, Restaurant Christmas isn’t really known by many people at all because it’s something I invented several years back.

Restaurant Christmas came to be because I needed a way to get through the holidays with my job in the service industry intact. It’s a self-made holiday which gives me the ability to work every holiday season at my restaurant job with a smile on my face.

My first Restaurant Christmas began one January 25th almost a decade ago when I recognized that only a few restaurant employees can take a vacation during the holiday season. In the world of restaurants, most employees—especially the managers—are required to work through the holidays because Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years are some of the busiest days of the year. So rather than leave a career I loved because of missing out on spending time with my distant family, I decided to create my own kind of celebration.

Thus, Restaurant Christmas was born.

Continue reading “Service 101: Restaurant Christmas”

December 12January 4

Hungry in America

Hunger is a powerful thing. In a country where status and positioning get valued above happiness, shame can be even more powerful. Shame has a way of hardening up like a thousand pound bead of amber that drops through the depths of your heart and deposits itself on the very bottom of you. It’s still there but it can no longer be seen. It’s only until you bring shame to the surface and deal with it, that you can let it go.

Shame can stop you from doing things. It can stop you from admitting to doing something wrong. Or even telling the truth about something you did right. Shame may be the main reason why childhood hunger is such a huge problem. Struggling families with kids feel so much shame they don’t take the help that’s available to them. Often, shame trumps the pain of hunger.

My most recent post about Share Our Strength (an organization looking to eradicate childhood hunger in America) wasn’t as honest as it could have been. I let deadlines take precedence over the need to be honest. I did a little research, quoted a few good stats, and attached a recipe. Infused vodka makes a very nice gift. That’s enough, right?

The thing is, I was afraid to tell the truth. I was once a hungry kid.

I hesitate to write this for fear of hurting anyone in my family. Yes, I was hungry once. No, I wasn’t hungry for long stretches of time. But the pain of being hungry as a child and powerlessness I felt because of it, marked me. Neglect lived everywhere in my childhood home. But nothing affected me as much as the neglect I experienced in the kitchen.

That’s why I’m taking the time to circle back, get humble, and open myself up to the honest truth. Because, in order for me to do the work that I’m supposed to do in service and in writing, I need to be vulnerable and honest in everything I put down on the page.

Luckily, I don’t have lots of memories of being hungry. But one day in particular–the day I tried to get help—sticks with me. It sticks with me because the cry for help was ignored and judged by a trusted neighbor.

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