I get choked up.
It’s the start of a New Year. Excitement is in the air and so is change and I am looking forward to new endeavors. With that being said, I am letting go of a $1200 studio apartment. I am finding it harder and harder committing to such a heavy workload with such little pay. I am going to go full force at this in hopes of learning more, without the stress and burdens that rain on me financially…we all know the kitchen is stressful enough.
So…Roommates. Everyone knows what a task it is to find a room. Particularly daunting is the thought of having somewhat crazy psychotic or worst a hippie vegan with staunch political views that won’t let me cook in the kitchen with animal products. Those people exists. Those people also wouldn’t want me as a roommate. Roommate postings can range from sane to completely outrageous. Vegans not wanting to share pots and pans, roommates wanting Taco TUESDAYS, must like this must like that must not do this must not do that. It gets too much. Viewings take on another rabid spirit. When opening a door into a new apartment, there is sometimes that scary screeches from a soundtrack of a horror movie. Think Alfred Hitchcock’s PSYCHO. I don’t want to live with Normal Bates. Then again it’s San Francisco I also don’t want to live with a Cheech Marin who will wreak of Nag Champa and patchouli.
I will miss my large and new kitchen. I will miss the oven, where I have created shortbread, and cakes, and roasts, and toasts when I lacked a toaster.
On to a new journey. More twists more turns.
The other week I cried. I snorted and blubbered through a moist towel. I sighed and breathed and got choked up. I was watching Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations. I don’t obsess over many things, or many humans, but I can sometimes obsess over food. While watching the episode on Spain, I had a bit of an intense reaction to the beautiful philosophy that a culture had on food. The innovation the soft beauty that was present in each family story. Adhering to their roots…their culture, and transforming culinary traditions to create new ones.
It got me to thinking. I wanted to travel. I yearned to. I ache to. I want to taste and savour the splendid tastes and aromas of regional cuisine. I’ve gone on interviews with various chefs and talked about food, and when asked, “WHY?…do you pursue this…do you want this…what is it about food that you like…”
I’ve stated before that I can get pretty emotional with food, as well with art. But I was not expecting it to suddenly overwhelm me when I was watching the show. It evokes so much emotion in me. A wonderful spirit. Maybe it’s my fathers spirit lighting new hope within me ,when at times I thought all there was to this world was making my mother happy, and making money.
I couldn’t stop crying. It wasn’t sadness, maybe it was envy maybe it was jealousy. I wasn’t there to smell the wood burning, I wasn’t there to taste the seasonal farm fresh ingredients, overwhelmed with the sights and sounds of a different country. The aromas, the language the sun all tied in a bundle around my heart. Squeeeezing it sooo tight, that I really thought that my heart was about to burst.
It was just so beautiful. And I want to experience that. I love love love that. The excitement the passion, and the tactile and sensory experiences.
I am exciting about this years change. With $1200 of rent away…with getting my deposit back. I am ready to move with no excuses. With no looking back, no regret. To be able to travel, catch that bug that my friends talk about. Focus on expanding my palate with travel. I can’t wait. It will be a bit till I am able to save up for my culinary journeys, but it’s definitely going to happen.
I hail a toast to 2009 and beyond. May the wine be bountiful and aromas be bright and warm.