Tag: dreams

Turning the Tables

I complain about the negatives of kitchen life and the hardship that go along with this career path.  I don’t need to sum up all the drawbacks and inherent wrongness of this job line, so I will consolidated all my complaining into a list for those who may still be in the dark: it generally sucks all around, it’s hard and nobody ever says good job, no vacation time, no sick days (unless you are in the hospital, and deep cuts do not always counts, depends on if it’s a holiday in which case the answer is always no), fire, very sharp knives, very hot things that want to burn you, heavy things, competitive environment, egotism, low pay sometimes even no pay, no respect, sometimes you get yelled at like you are a child misbehaving, incompetent coworkers who get paid the same, small working environment, no privacy, constant harassment, you have to fight for the tools you need, you have to clean a lot, no sitting down, if you do get to eat that will be while standing.

So instead of further complaining, we are going to change the hands of power.  People need to eat, that demand will never go away.  Beyond job security, the stability is intrinsic.  I can take a break, walk away, say fuck you hungry people I am going to be a writer!  I will break your heart and you will hate me.  But when I say, hey, I am back in town, want something to eat?  You will not say no, you will not refuse my cool offer of a hot meal.

I want to travel everywhere on this great and green planet.   This wish is very conflicting with working in a restaurant.  But what if I could cook from home, making delicious and healthy meals, sell enough product so that I can give myself 2 months off a year?  I could be private chef for any special occasion.  I will be your very own caterer.  I will bring my own pots and knives, and I will be polite and cook and serve.  I will wash the dishes and you will pay me a good amount of money because it will be very nice.  Think about wearing whatever you want while you eat a fancy meal, instead of those stuffy clothes.

Sounds crazy, but you don’t know how good I am at being poor.  I have been refining my skill for decades now.  Food for motivation, your reality is what you make it.

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Pondering Milk Mostly, Chef’s Notes

What happens when you dehydrate milk?  Do you get milk powder?  Milk tuile?

I bet I will have to make my own evaporated coconut milk… coconut milk jam it is!

I should start making my own milk chocolate… darkest of darkness chocolate, plus sweetened condensed milk, plus toast milk solids.  Yup!

Is it possible to make everything gluten free?  No whey?

Whipped Crème Anglaise?

Triple Crème Brie Turnover?

I can’t stop thinking about fried dough and cheese, goat cheese in particular.

I have a dream to make a chocolate and cheddar dessert, somehow bringing together chocolate and sharp cheese together in holy matrimony.  Some day, it will happen.

 

neon dreams

I want to kiss you in the forest

Where all is dark except we make our own stars.

I twinkle around you

The sparkle in a stolen sentiment.

You can put out a fire with your gaze

Throb a red heart with a pulse in your step.

You have lightening bugs in you fingertips

A tight tune in your hug.

The Importance of Names

It took me a long time to decide what to rename my bike.  I finally got my dream bike, so it was a lot of pressure to find a name that I like and that is appropriate to the spirit of the bike.  I tend to keep things for a long time, so I know that this name will stay with me for years to come.  Not only is this the bike that I have always wanted and desired to be mine, I dreamt about the bike moments before it came into my life.  I dreamt that I found the bike in a thrift store for $35 dollars, and upon awakening I was very sad when I realized that the fortunate bike was just a mental muse. Not that I expected to get my dream machine for a price that was super fortunate, it was, after all, a dream.

The very next day, my coworker informs me that he has a bike, a split frame mixte Peugeot (no big deal, just the most coveted old school bike style in all of Chicagoaland), that he does not want (too small for him) and that I can have for my very own!  Imagine my excitement.  My dream came true, exactly true, beautifully true.  My dream bike is finally mine to have and to ride and to possess for decades to come.  A new and best companion to share my road time adventures, to be the reason for my trips, to fulfill the need of transportation and exercise.

The bike came with the name Reptar, which is a mighty fine name, but it is not the name that I would choose for my fabulous contraption of a bike.  I spend a lot of time on my bike, so the machine needs a name that embodies the spirit and energy we create together.  I spent a long time thinking about names.  Fillip, Sebastian, Cruella, Pierre, Cosmos, Galactica, Constellation, Alfredo (after my dad), Moonlight, Jupiter, Jack (after my grandpa), Parsnip, Fernet… the list was long.

I finally decided on a name the same day I decided that I was going to pursue a new career opportunity.  After having landed on a name for the bike, I felt confident that I could make a descision about my future.  I needed some sense of permanence, a constant theme, to help me commit to a new environment. I needed to feel secure in a choice, albeit not as important as a job, to feel a personal sense of security.  I felt more clear in the brain.  It gave me a sense of peace, closure, and serenity.

Turnip.  That’s the name.  Turnip Greenz.  The bike is old and the paint job does not have the clean sharp white that it must have worn 45 years ago when it was created.  It has a black seat post, black handle bar post, and black tape wrapped around the handle bars.  Together, this reminds me of a turnip pulled fresh from the ground, covered in thick, life giving dirt.

Turnip is also named after the constant companion in Howl’s Moving Castle.  Turnip is a scarecrow that skips on a stick, following the protagonist around, providing help, company, and joy.  Turnip does not speak, can only bounce to get around, but is my favorite character in the story.  He follows the character around wherever she may go, without asking, without hesitation or invitation, but is the hero of the story.  Turnip Greenz is my jolly, my bouncing and energetic companion, my constant for adventure, who does not speak but provides an irreplaceable role.  Turnip is the unspoken hero to the story. Turnip is the unspoken means to my end.