philadelphia dreaming

My best friend Krysia and I have a dream.

It's a beautiful dream that has existed since our youngest years. Back in the day, we used to talk about how one day we would own a bed and breakfast, in which Krysia would run the front of the house, I would cook all the food, and our third friend would serve meals to guests on her roller-skates. Very sensible, really. 

Sometimes we would practice our skills, to the point of venturing to the park across the street to retrieve onion grass that would soon be sautéed and tasted before tossed in the trash. Or we would concoct marvelously strange drinks consisting of tea, pepsi, lemon, and various other ingredients, later to be forced upon my gracious grandad, who would unfailingly respond with, "that's good!", which fueled our giggles. Sometimes we would practice our entrepreneurial skills with the always-expensive lemonade stand, or we would let our tastebuds guide menu exploration by tracking down that friendly neighborhood summer jingle until our hands were gripping skylite or spearmint snow cones topped with drippy marshmallow sauce.

Although it was all a distant dream at that point, it has all started to become tangible reality since. We have both matured into our designated roles, realizing that our gifts and talents lie in these areas (although the roller-skating seems to have fizzled out). We have been pursuing them through our jobs this summer and it's our goal to come up with a business plan for some sort of cafe or coffee shop by the time we return to school. We have been brainstorming concepts and exploring, both physically and electronically, different cities to see where we might fit. 

And last week... we got to explore Philly.

It's kind of funny actually. For some reason, Philly has just kept arising in both of our lives, both separately and together, in conversation or news articles or inspirations. And neither of us had ever been there. Thus, we're both intrigued by this historic city. So last week, when I had to go to the Italian Consulate to apply for my visa, we and my mom made a day trip of it. And though we'd heard various opinions of this Filthadelphia, we both loved it.

words, a prequel.

It seems that I've been all over the place again. I don't know how it happens, but each week seems to flit past my eyes before I even realize how far into the month we are. The only reason I know the date on a regular basis is because almost daily, my sharpie-gripping hands write onto masking tape those two or three numbers separated by a slash, in order to keep track of all the jolly goods we make at the bakery. I'm thankful for that because otherwise, I'd have no idea what day it is. Probably ever.

Life just seems to be accelerating more and more, and my greatest desire in a normal week is to have one day to just be in the moment. To squint my eyes, gather my thoughts, focus, and try to wrap my head around what is actually happening in my life. It's almost August already. Wasn't it just the first day of summer, like last week? Some weeks I achieve that, and the respite rejuvenates my soul, giving it rest more than ever before. I find joy again and I'm reminded of truth. And I'm recharged, ready to go until the next time that day comes. And then, some weeks don't hold such a day. Some seem to just push me along while I try to look back, point at what has happened, and understand.

Last week, for example. My cling to clarity and peace boiled down to one single desire: to chop garlic. That's it. All week I was craving this. That someone would stick me in a kitchen by myself, give me everything I need, and set me off. To chop garlic. To sizzle it in olive oil. To create a savory mess that begins on a cutting board, matures in a pan, and settles down to rest on a plate. To cook and get my hands dirty and let creativity and soul run free a bit. And though all of that didn't play out, I've had moments of it. And those moments have been completely and thoroughly refreshing. This therapy- I've learned it by reading Bread & Wine by Shauna Niequist. Until finishing her book, I didn't realize how tangibly healing it is to cook and return to the flavors that feel like home. I didn't know it was okay to rest that way, that God actually loves when I rest through the creative output He has instilled in me. I'm thankful to be understanding that more.

So I'm beginning to learn that honestly, life is just this way sometimes. I'm not the only one experiencing it, and others are experiencing it much more intensely. And it's going to be okay. All I need are those moments, those hours, or even days if I'm lucky, of space to be reminded of truth and to do things that bring my soul its greatest delight.

In the midst of all this, I'm seeing how consistent God is. How remarkably He catches my eye with something everyday but also intricate, like the sky. That's mostly where I've been seeing Him lately, come to think of it. And when I settle my mind to focus on Him, how steadily He speaks truth to me and refutes the lies that I so quickly am convinced of. He is beautiful and sweet, that is certain.

So for now, it's only words, in an effort to explain my situation. Soon, hopefully this week, I'll share in further detail about my foodie occurrences as of late. I can't wait to tell you about them.

Until then, seek your respite. Perhaps garlic. Or a good book. Or travel. Or family. Or coffee. Or coffee and something else, if you're anything like me. And enjoy.

garlicky guacamole

My goodness. I can't believe it's been almost a month since I was last here. I'm telling you people, this past month has, once again, been chaotic. How can so much change be happening in such a concentrated amount of time.

We'll get to the guacamole in a minute, but quickly, to give you a practical low-down... Since last we met, my life has transitioned again. While my family's house still hasn't sold, I've moved up north to the town of my youth to start working. I'd been coming up sporadically, looking for jobs and staying with my best friend in the world. Got an interview. Got a job. Moved my portable, nomadic life to the gracious and generous home of my second family, as we call them. AKA my best friend and her delightful kin. Slowly I have made the change, again, to a new place. But this time not so new.

All of this has been so joyful, yet so hard. I'm doing life here, reacquainting myself with the sights and roads that the young me knew so well from the familiar back seat of the parent-driven car. This bump in the road. That restaurant. That school. This stop light. It all comes flooding back via the lens of earlier years. Everything seemed a bit bigger then, a bit more homey. But it's been several years since I've lived here, years full of change and growth, and I now carry a different perspective.

Just a few days ago I had a wonderful conversation with a dear high school friend. We are similar, though sometimes I forget how very similar. We talked about crazy connections of our thoughts and mindsets, and how we constantly think that one day, we will find the ideal. We'll find the perfect city. The perfect man. The perfect friendships. That it will all just come, at that one point in your life that you are always convinced will come. But in reality, it probably won't. Rather, it's our position to adapt, to stop criticizing, to find the beauty in the imperfection. Maybe we all move to the same town together, to preserve some beauty that we are currently familiar with. Whatever it is, we know that we are going to grow and we're going to learn with our hearts to be content and overjoyed with both the present and the hope. Seemingly undoable. But doable.

So I realize that it wasn't necessarily this town that made my youth so cherished. It wasn't even Graul's chicken tenders with fantastically delicious honey mustard. No, more the people. And today, that is what remains to be the greatest treasure. Annapolis has changed. My eyes have changed. But people I love are still here. And I'm meeting new people I love. And though other people I love are scattered elsewhere too, that is worth it. I'm learning to find new beauty in the wake of memory, and I think I'll be learning this my whole life.

Thus, a new beauty: I work in a bakery. Daily, I get to roll out pate brisee for quiches while listening to French-themed music. I get to hear the squeals of overjoyed customers receiving cakes for their baby showers. I get to have flour all over me and I get to learn new things, like glazing petit fours and filling macarons. Some days it hits me all over again, and I'm filled with joy and thankfulness. So blessed to be doing what I love. More on that later.

Friends, I'm not entirely sure how guacamole fits into all this. Maybe because it's just something I've perfected over the years and can easily make in whatever setting, so it's a comfort. Maybe it's the fact that it so often accompanies summertime food, so it brings a sense of joy and freedom. Maybe it's the fact that whenever I get home from work, all I want is garlicky, salty, savory food to cleanse my palate. Maybe it's just that I love guac, and so does everyone else.

Easy instructions. Adaptable ingredients. But I have a few rules. Always use either lime or cilantro, or both, but never without. Always use tomato or red pepper, but preferably tomato, and never without. Never onion, it's too overpowering. And when you taste test and think to yourself, "It still needs something..." The answer? Garlic. More garlic. Always.

But those are just my rules. Go skip in your kitchen with playful music and make your own.


Garlicky Guacamole
- 4 avocados
- 12 cloves of garlic, mashed and chopped (Yes, you read correctly. I probably average 3 or 4 cloves of garlic per avocado.)
- 1 large tomato, diced small
- Juice of one lime
- 2 to 4 tablespoons of cilantro, chopped
- salt and pepper to taste

Start by halving and pitting your avocados, then scooping them out into a large bowl. Smash with a fork, leaving some clumps behind. Add your garlic, tomato, lime, cilantro, and salt & pepper. Mix and mash to desired consistency. Taste with and without a chip, then add whatever you think is necessary. Serve with bubbly beer and salty chips.

traveling eats

The past been month can be characterized by abnormality and franticness.

Finish the semester. Pack up and move out of house at school. Go straight to grandparents' house. Pack up and move that place. Immediately go home. Pack up that house. Get it on the market. Meanwhile, take trips up north to find a job in the city we're moving to. Back and forth. Up and down. Sore muscles. Allergies. Never enough sleep.

Until today... When the chaos paused and the slate of the schedule wiped itself clean. A much needed respite for slowing down, breathing, and feeling. Time and space for God to reawaken my soul and make my heart flutter again. The freedom to read and journal, to curl in and be introverted in order to stretch out again, to skip downtown in the rain for a strong americano and an extended linger in my favorite card shop. And to get back here, a branch of reflection that reminds my tizzied self of the joy laid out in front of me and all around me. My heart is softly mouthing words of gratitude.

You know these times. I'm sure you can recognize the familiarity of disorder, and thus you can relate to the motion of every other part of your life being shoved into the dark corners of the closet, only cautiously peaking its head around the doorway when noise subsides. One of these aspects is undoubtedly food, especially nutritious food. For many, the stomach becomes a nuisance because it yells at us until we are forced to stop accomplishing for just a few minutes in order to attend to ourselves. And though we stop, we are unable to muster enough energy for proper care. Goodness, this is the truth of our household recently. Eating on the fly all the time. Sadly, then, I have no recent delicious creation to share, although I did make a key lime pie last week for my boyfriend's birthday- definitely a favorite in my family circle and beyond. But I'm sure to make it again this summer and thus it will reveal its tangy self here at some point. Preview in the meantime.

So instead of the usual, I've chosen a conglomeration of eating experiences that occurred before I departed from school. Nibbles from road trips and surprise adventures, all tasted in the community of sweet friends.