Sunday, June 5, 2016

That's Why My Love (for food) is the Deep Blue Sea


I left early for work in hopes of snapping some interesting pictures on my bike.  I was looking all around at the trees, at the buildings and then I realized I was riding directly behind this tiny but wide lowrider pickup truck overflowing with huge batches of balloons. Those shiny awful ones they sell at grocery stores. But in the morning sun that truck looked so cartoony and brilliant. Like something you'd see in a Pixar film.  It was bursting with these things spilling out both sides.  And the truck rode as if the balloons weighed it down somehow.  I thought it would be a great shot but I had to stay with it in order to get a good angle right from behind.  I had to stop to take the picture but I couldn't just stop in the busy bike lane, I'd have to pull over and there would be no way to get that direct view.  I found myself chasing this damn truck about 5 blocks.  I was mesmerized by the dreaminess of it and almost wrecked a couple of times not paying attention to all the morning traffic and cell phone zombies.  Eventually I had to decide to just let it go. I could chase it forever or until it stopped but that could be miles away.  I had a little time to dilly but I had to get to work. It became this impossible situation.
But then watching the truck drive out of sight all bumpity and jovial I suddenly felt so sad, like it meant something.  Instead of just being a photo op, suddenly it represented my current life's frustration. This undefinable thing that I seem to chase but it's always out of reach, even of my comprehension.  Like a dream that starts to make a lot of sense but then you wake up and try to restate it to someone out loud and it sounds like nonsense.  I'm chasing my past, I'm chasing my youth, my pulse, my heart, my desires, something I think I deserve. That damn truck filled with all that shiny fun is everything to me but attaining it is hopeless.  And I couldn't even get a good shot off.  I won't have proof.  I'll just have the story to tell.
I love migas but came up with Vigas today, vegetable migas.  With lots of small sliced vegetables quick cooked over higher heat then the egg stirred in and a little jack cheese. This makes everything stick to the vegetables sort of like they were deep fried.
Maybe this is why the art of cooking food makes so much sense to me and can be highly satisfying. You make it choosing exactly what you want.  You define the outcome. You can eat it, take photos of it, write about it and it serves a basic need and function as well as a creative outlet.  You can share it with anyone or noone. And it can be different every time or a repeat of a great dish if you want.  And...bacon.


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