Monday, January 16, 2012

I can't tell you what it is. I can only tell you what it tastes like.

Good Lord, that was not the year I was expecting to have.

2011 was a game changer. New job, new voice teacher, new haircut, new music, new voice part, new appetites, new recipes, new views on nutrition, new feelings.  Since November 2010, I have been at least 4 different people: An innocent bystander, a bloodlusty Pekinese single mother, a Zombie of the French Revolution, and a Sri Lankan Savage.
But enough with the gratuitous pictures... let's talk about the food.

I've been looking through the posts from the past year and I am somewhat at a loss. I'm not entirely sure what I was expecting to make of this year when I resolved to make it delicious. I think I expected to do more cooking and researching recipes and talking about food and cook for other people. Don't get me wrong, recipe cruising is my favorite downtime hobby, and as my 10 year old nephew pointed out on our recent family vacation "Let's talk about what you like to talk about, Aunt Beth: let's talk about food." (That kid has me pegged.) And yet here I am in January 2012 with a blog I never expected to have, trying to decide if I'm going to carry on with this experiment, because I'm not sure it can get much better than it has been this year. My nephew also asked me what the best meal of DNY was and I literally can not choose. How can I even begin? Every thing I have written about this year has been made more sweet by the simple fact that I have been able to share it, in person and through this stupid little blog.

The idea of breaking bread as a metaphor for family and community has always been a very powerful idea to me. We sustain each other, we share our burdens and our joys, we are in it together. Delicious New Year became less about my personal resolution and more about being a part of a family. A weird, eclectic family of our own design. I am very proud to have had the chance to break bread with each of you, to be a part of your community, and part of something delicious with you.

I like to make lists. Every day I make a list of the dumb things I need to do. I have made long lists of things about me that are wonderful, and make me an awesome person to be around. I've made equally long lists of things I hate about myself, and why no one should ever speak to me ever again. So, as is my wont, I have made a short list of things that have struck me about this glorious and Delicious New Year:

1. I Don't Like to follow recipes (that's a metaphor!)
Hey, remember when I first started this blog and I would post the recipes of the tings I was making?
That ended pretty quickly. Partly due to the fact that I started doing uber-delicious meta posts about a series of amazing foods I consumed instead of just one meal. Partly because I stopped cooking for an extended period of time since I was home for a total of 6 hours from February-September. Mostly because neither my stomach nor my heart seem to follow directions, and usually opt for the culinary/emotional road less travelled.

2. I like Oregano
I decided somewhere along the way that I did not like oregano. I avoided it at all costs. I did not even have any in my eclectic spice cabinet. Which is a problem being a foodie of Italian descent: it's hard to avoid the stuff. It was most likely a completely arbitrary decision. And it's now a moot point because, after Salonika's Oregano Chicken and potatoes, I am a dedicated disciple. I have two huge bulk bags of the glorious stuff in my cabinet now and I find ways to put it in everything. And what's striking to me is that this is just one example of something that I thought I didn't care for, of which my opinion turned out to be completely false. Crudites, Tchaikovsky, sunbathing, distance running, radishes, tequila, French opera, electronica, bluegrass, hiking, writing down my opinions and publishing them for others to read. They've all made the shift from nay to yay. I still do not understand football though. Sorry.

3. I am a Stress Baker
Baking, in my mind, is hard. It is tedious and requires meticulous attention and patience, of which I never considered myself to be capable. It turns out, though, that the process is as addictive as the products. It comes as no surprise to anyone that I am a fairly dramatic person and I am really not a champion at stress management. I tend to get moody and overwhelmed and completely unbearable to be round, and I have been trying for years to find a reasonable and effective method for confronting my crazing manic mood swings. Now baking and running are at the top of a list that I never expected to make: Surprising things that soothe me, and coincidentally make me feel completely Bad Ass.

4. The Distance Between Zero and One: This isn't necessarily culinary.
This idea has been on my mindgrapes since well before Nerve's impeccable album of the same title came out in July. I don't like to brag but I think it is worth noting that since this time last year, I have lost roughly 20 pounds. I didn't set out to spend this year reducing my weight or developing an exercise addiction, and a good portion of the meals featured on this blog are burgers or pizza. I haven't taken any pains to monitor my eating habits, but I have been making informed decisions about my nutrition and my life that I have never been educated enough to make before. I have run more miles this year than in all of my other years of life combine. And I'll be honest, I'm Proud of myself. That is something I rarely admit. But I believe in myself more now than I ever have in the past. And it's because I've been able to be thoughtful and sincere here in this blog. As well as getting some serious nutritional education from my friends who are all much much much smarter than I am.

The Bitter and The Sweet:
OF COURSE, there have been some decidedly undelicious moments this year. I was a grade A asshole on New Year's Eve 2011 and ditched my friends to ring in the New Year at home. Our Winter Classic tickets turned out to be an elaborate scam, and K called me in tears for the first time in all the years of our friendship.
I have both unfriended and been unfriended. I had to use the phrase "I do NOT want to be friends with you" for the first time in my life. Twice. In one month.
I got bit by a dog.
I lost every single audition I took this year.
I broke a toilet in the Heinz Lofts.
I declared open war on my uterus. And I can't be totally sure, but I think I lost.
I challenged a retaining wall to a game of chicken and lost ("I GOT THIS"). And other related sidewalk diving incidents.
Several of my close friends moved away from me.
And of course the list goes on. Even now, I am still wrestling with some surprisingly potent post-performance depression, and some very negative feelings about myself in general, a subject which I attempted to deal with in a DNY post a few weeks back. I initially ended the post by saying that, though I was visibly surrounded by goodness, I was feeling completely indifferent and "my heart was as empty as my refrigerator" (A line which I still love, and wish I could use without sounded like an angst-filled teenager with food issues.) 

I have since changed the post to have a much more positive ending. Because more than once this year I have said to myself "This is the happiest I have ever felt". In a skylit hot tub in Michigan, in a cold creek in Rockmere, on a beach blanket in Dewey, in a Chipotle the weekend before my birthday, at work on taco day, at a coffee shop in Kentucky (inexplicably), at backyard barbeques in Highland Park, during every single performance of Dialogues and Messiah, at every single family dinner, on New Years Eve when I was surrounded by those I love. And isn't that the whole point? That the rainbow comes after the rain, and all those unbearable cliches that actually turn out to be true. You take the negativity for what it is, and you move on. Because what's the point of dwelling over some spoiled peanut butter brownies when you have kickass bourbon cookies and homemade sweet tea? 

I have adapted a few mantras throughout the year. They go through rotations, and some of them are quite profane ("I don't fucking care if you like it") or offensive ("Go die in a fire") or kind of confusing ("I can't tell you what it is. I can only tell you what it feels like") or just plain silly ("Fetch me out that doodle doo"). But the most constant, and most powerful sentiment I can evoke about this year is this: LIFE IS FOR THE LIVING. 
It's been a delirious, rollercoaster year, and I would have done myself no favors by not opening my arms and embracing this mad adventure. I don't always understand it and I don't always like it, but most of the time, it's pretty awesome.

The final conclusion is that DNY 2011 was a resounding success.
I am ASTOUNDED by all the intelligence, talent, grace, and beauty by which I am surrounded. I am a little ashamed at having not previously appreciated how lovingly I am cared for by you, friends, and am grateful that I will no longer be making that mistake in the future. You are all wicked awesome chefs and I look forward to the amazing things we will all cook up together.

2012 has a LOT to live up to.

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