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DINER SCENES

Cindy Maddera

The Diner Scenes photo series started in Mountain View, MO. We stopped in to eat lunch at a small town diner where we were the youngest people in the place. An older couple who looked to be about my parents’ age sat at a table near the window and talked to the two elderly women sitting at a table next to them. The man had the look and shape of my dad, white hair, rounded body. I could hear snippets of their conversation, talking about their younger days. He said that he and his wife had started dating when she was fifteen. “I pretty much wouldn’t let her look at anyone else.” I snapped a picture, light pouring in the windows, my lens slightly smudged. It was enough to give me the idea to keep the photos going. Each photo would be an incomplete list of all the food we ate during our travels.

We’ve been home three whole days, driving back from New Orleans in one shot. Josephine is curled up on my feet and snoring, exhausted from her week at Terry’s. Groceries have been purchased, house has been cleaned and laundry is done. I’m trying to gather my thoughts on New Orleans that isn’t just about food. We ate boiled crawfish in a town just before we hit New Orleans. We just stopped at a roadside convenience store and ordered two pounds of crawfish. Then we stood outside, using the tailgate of the truck as a table, peeling and eating crawfish as fast as we could. I took Michael to the places I remembered like Cafe Du Monde and Frank’s. Then there were new places like Willie Mae’s Scotch House where we stood outside waiting for almost two hours for fried chicken, catfish and the best butter beans I’ve ever eaten. That was the same day we stumbled onto a local’s bar in the French Quarter. We were the only tourists sitting at their outside tables. The drinks were cheap and the company was priceless. We stayed too long, saw a parade, drank too much. By the time we left, we couldn’t get into any nearby restaurants and Michael led me into a fast food fried chicken place called Willie’s. He ordered me catfish, but when I took a bite, I said “This tastes like chicken!” Then Michael looked at my food and said “That’s because it is chicken.” He made a move to go correct the mistake, but I shrugged and said “I’m eating this.” Then I proceeded to happily (tipsily) eat all of the four chicken tenders.

I was so drunk, I ate chicken and didn’t care.

We bought some art and walked twenty thousand or more steps a day. I got a sunburn. We rode the streetcar and the bus. We went to the art museum and the cemeteries. I took pictures, the kind of pictures I want to print and hang on the walls. I had my palms and tarot cards read by a woman in Jackson Square. She told me things I already knew like how I’m my worse enemy and I’m really good at my job. She saw my broken heart. She told me “You have a broken heart and you’re still holding onto that.” What’s funny about that is that I would not remember until we were home that I had forgotten what would have been my twenty fourth wedding anniversary with Chris. Michael and I were tailgating with crawfish and I was introducing him to New Orleans on that day. This seems appropriate for being in a city that is the same as the last time I was there, yet completely different. I’m like New Orleans before and after the hurricane.

And just like that, we’re home. Cleaning gutters and chicken coops. Responding to work emails and cleaning out inboxes. Meal prepping and gearing up for a return to an old routine. Right now, I have ‘couch/TV time’ scheduled on my calendar and I’ve settled in with my coffee and CBS Sunday Morning. Right now, I’m dreaming of strolling down the streets of the French Quarter.

FINE DINING

Cindy Maddera

Michael and I are doing pretty well on the financial side of things right now. I mean, we’re not rolling in the dough, but we are being fiscally responsible. We have a small amount of debt that continues to shrink each month. We’re paying our bills on time and we even have a safety net in savings for emergencies. That last part seems almost like the most adult thing I have ever done. I come from a paycheck to paycheck way of life. Life growing up fluctuated between poor and okay. Chris and I were poor. We were not good at managing our money in any kind of way and we were bogged down with student loan debt. We started out our career journeys already in a deep hole. Michael and I started our relationship when both of us had just barely made it out of our own financial holes and because we had not learned any lessons, we immediately fell back into a hole. I think we finally learned some lessons in finances.

Every other week, we sit down to review bills and Michael looks at the bank account to see what has processed and where we are spending our money. Really, we are starting to change our mindset about not just where we spend, but where we want to spend our money. Turns out that there aren’t too many ways we want to spend our money. One way is charity. I am all the time throwing twenty dollars at some charity and Michael is all the time asking “What’s this international charge?” This month was to help Ukrainian refugees. Planned Parenthood just automatically gets ten dollars a month. I feel like I should do more. I want to do more. But…this is where we are. We also want to spend our money traveling. Traveling has been a very solid part of this relationship. Michael and I have very different interests, but we both agree on going places and seeing stuff and we both agree on eating really good food.

We went to Farina for my birthday in January and had such a nice dinner. The food was amazing. The service was impeccable. We were not crowded or rushed. It was all just really so nice that I asked why we didn’t do this every other month. So, before we had even finished our dinner, we scrolled through a list of fancy restaurants, chose one from the list and made reservations. That reservation was for Novel and happened Saturday evening and it is going to be a very hard one to top. Michael and I ate some of the most full flavored dishes that I think we have ever eaten. Michael took one bite from his appetizer of his beef sirloin tartare and closed his eyes in bliss. He said it was so good that it almost made him mad, like he should throw his fork across the room. I had the Brussels sprouts salad that was so good that I didn’t even notice until I was almost finished that I had eaten raisins. Those of you who know me, know my feelings about raisins, but I was not at all mad about the plump golden raisins in my salad. We shared an order of butternut squash ravioli and shrimp ramen, where I basically licked my ramen bowl clean. Then we finished out our order, Michael with a pork chop and me with a perfectly cooked piece of salmon. We got dessert to go and ate it for breakfast the next day.

We had to be rolled to our car.

As per tradition, while we were in Novel, we picked the next place, Corvino Supper Club. The couple next to us heard us making our decision and the woman chimed in “Corvino’s is so good. We were just there an hour ago.” I looked at her, she and her partner were both very fit. I had noticed that they had each had an appetizer of the tartare. The had both had entrees where they had cleaned the plate; his was a giant steak. I said “You were just there tonight?” She nodded her head enthusiastically and said “Yeah! We had drinks and appetizers.” Michael asked her what appetizer she had and the woman responded “steak tartare.” Michael and I looked at each other to make sure we had both heard the same thing and he said “You had the steak tartare there and here?!?” Again, nodding enthusiastically, the woman responded “Yeah.” Michael said “Okay then…I think we’ll be happy with our next food adventure.”

I think I like being a grown up. Well…at least this part.

METABOLICALLY READY

Cindy Maddera

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I skipped lunch on Sunday because I was driving home from a weekend at Mom’s and once I’m in the car, I am reluctant to stop until I get home (Dad trait). Also, the food options for me on the road between Tulsa and Kansas City are not great options. When I got home, Michael said he wanted bbq. He made us a dinner reservation for Jack Stack (one of KC’s most popular bbq joints) after checking the menu for Jack Stack, who has a surprisingly decent amount of fish options. We shared an appetizer of fried mushrooms. Then, when my order of bbq trout with loaded (no bacon) baked potato and garden salad arrived at our table, I ate all of it. I left half the garden salad because Jack Stack’s ‘dinner’ salad is truly dinner sized, but still. Michael only ate half of his sandwich and sides, while I just continued eating on a giant plate of food until I felt ill.

That night, I’m not really sure what was happening in my dream, but someone who felt like my brother gave me a hot dog from Katz’s Deli. When I unwrapped the hotdog from the wax paper, I discovered a perfect New York hot dog, but a vegetarian hot dog, not a meat one. I was overjoyed and hugged this brother like person with all my might. I woke up wanting all of this to be real. It is not. The only thing I can eat at Katz’s Deli is the egg salad sandwich. It is the most superb egg salad sandwich I have ever eaten and now I want one with a gallon container of their pickles. Then I want to consume tomatoes and mozzarella cheese until my stomach bursts and ohmygod I do not know what is happening to me. It’s like I am a hibernating breed of animal that just looked at the calendar and realized that winter is not all that far away and is now saying to itself “Oh no! I’m not metabolically ready for winter!”

For some reason, I found myself watching the first episode of the Fantasy Island reboot on FOX. One of the guests was a news anchorwoman who had been depriving herself of food for fear of getting too fat for TV, but it was a habit she formed in her early teens. The result of this was that she always felt hungry, always felt empty inside. On the island she was able to eat anything and all that she wanted without gaining an ounce. She immediately sat down to elaborate meals, full of all of the things that she never allowed herself to eat, but with each meal came a memory and an interruption from her step-dad, the man who planted and watered the seed of her idea of food and her body. Each time, she pushed the memory away and the more empty she felt inside. It wasn’t until she finally confronted the memory that she felt full and content. She left the island with an intent to find more joy in her daily life and that sometimes that joy comes in the form of a cupcake.

I wonder what memory it is I am suddenly trying to push away. What is nudging me that I need to confront? Where did this sudden space come from that I feel needs to be filled up with something such as more cheese?

The August session of Camp Wildling starts this week. I am not going, but I still recieve all of the updates and newsletters regarding camp and it makes me wish I was going to camp. Yesterday, Kelly posted a list of last minute suggestions for the campers. Number seven on the list was in regards to an impromptu grief ceremony at the ancient Indian mounds that are in the camp. She was floating it out there for other campers because sometimes sharing what is in our grieving hearts can help us heal. It was a ceremony that I participated in when I was at camp and seeing this posted on the list made me tear up immediately. I had not expected to have any part in this ceremony. Then Kelly approached me and said that she and another camper where going to the mounds for a grief ceremony and invited me to go. It was very last minute. I had nothing prepared to share. I didn’t know what this grief ceremony was going to look like and was not prepared for any of it. Kelly started by sharing her story and then she “Cindy, will you tell us about Chris?” Maybe two words came out of my mouth before the rest of anything I had to say was taken over by a rush of sobs. My body made sounds of grief I had not heard since Chris’s death. I lost complete control of myself and I didn’t even know I had that kind of sobbing left in me after all this time. It was like a black sticky tar ball lodged between my kidneys had for some reason chosen this moment to wiggle itself free.

Am I trying to fill that space back up with food? Unintentionally maybe.

It is the habit that once you clean out a space, to fill it up with new stuff. It is as if one cannot handle empty spaces. Except if we take some time, if we just let ourselves feel unsettled with the empty space for a few minutes, I think we will eventually get used to the emptiness. I’m good with this concept of thinking outside of my own body. In fact, empty spaces are my Xanax, but internally is a different story. For one thing, I come from a family of non communicators. We internalize all thoughts and feelings. This is why I am better at writing about it then talking about it. My grief for Chris is just the easiest box or boxes to reach in this attic of internalized crap, but getting rid of some of those boxes, makes room for sorting through others. So, I’ve curbed my appetite.

I’m leaving space for more mental sorting.

ANIMALS

Cindy Maddera

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Last year was the first year where the veterinarian did not lecture me about Josephine’s weight. Every year we go in for her yearly exam, Josephine comes in two pounds over weight on the scale and then her doctor spends fifteen minutes telling me that Josephine needs to be eating the most expensive diet food. The year before last, I switched Josephine to a reasonably priced diet food. Except I felt bad about the dry kibble, so I started mixing a little wet food to give her a ‘gravy’. I fed it to her twice a day and the veterinarian said at the last wellness exam that Josephine’s weight was good. I fist pumped the air and gave Josephine an extra treat. We had entered into straight up lock down and I figured that all the walks we were taking would counter act the effects of extra treats that seemed to fall down from the sky for her.

And it did, until it didn’t.

When the cat had his car accident, we started feeding him cans of Fancy Feast, crack food for cats. We had been desperate to get him to eat anything. His body wilted down to a frail and skinny version of himself that had both of us terrified. So we fed him the crack and he ate it up as long as it wasn’t salmon flavored. Now the cat expects his Fancy Feast daily along with the dry kibble he used to eat. Basically, he never wants his bowl to be empty. The result is that the cat is no longer frail and skinny, but quite hefty. I said something to Michael about the other day and Michael said that the cat just looked fat because of all his winter hair. While it is true the cat’s winter coat has come in fierce and he even looks like he has a lion’s main, he is heavy. I had to pick him up and remove him from my bed recently and it was work. I watched the cat cross the backyard and find a place to settle near the fire pit. He looked massive. Then the cat and one of the chickens had a staring contest. I really thought that the cat was going to try to take down a chicken. He didn’t, but it was a tense staring match.

Josephine’s weight started increasing when she realized that she could reach the cat’s food bowl. The cat is a grazer and often leaves his food behind while he goes and takes a break. If you are not paying attention, Josephine will sneak into the kitchen and eat all the cat’s food. We know it is her because the cat never cleans a bowl and Josephine always leaves a happy plate. We’ve taken to setting the cat food bowl up on the kitchen counter when we think the cat’s finished eating, but now the cat gets up on the counter. So be it. I’ve adjusted Josephine’s evening meal to just plain old kibble. I have to stir the kibble around with my finger before I set it down for her to eat. The first time I just set the kibble down, she looked at me with her head cocked to the side in question. I picked up the bowl, swirled the kibble around and set it back down. She shrugged and then ate all of the kibble. My plan is to get Josephine down to whatever weight is needed so the vet won’t lecture me when I take her in for wellness exam in a few months. If pretending to mix in wet food with Josephine’s dry food gets us there, so be it.

It seems we live in a society where even our pets need be on special diets. I feel the same way about this as I feel about the food I put into my own body. I rarely over indulge. Meals are filled with greens and rarely come out of a box. I splurge on cheese and good chocolate. I enjoy the occasional potato chip. I don’t see why this philosophy can’t apply to Josephine. Forget the cat. We let him do what he wants. Josephine is more one of us. I don’t go overboard with treats for her. She gets two little biscuits in the morning before work. All other treats are things that fall onto the kitchen floor or at Micheal’s feet. Sure, she’s been known to steal half a sandwich or drink a whole bowl of unguarded cheese dip, but haven’t we all? I’m sure Josephine regrets all of her binge moments just as much I regret my own occasional binge moments.

Like I said. She’s one of us.

THE HEART OF WINTER

Cindy Maddera

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Temperatures started dropping here on Saturday. I grabbed a laundry basket to head down to the basement and as I walked to the kitchen-garage door, I saw Marguerite walk by. I hollered to Michael “there’s a chicken in the garage!” The dog door that leads from the garage to the outside is open. I had already watched that same chicken hop down into the window well that morning only to have Josephine chase her out. I guess she was disappointed in her roosting options and finally decided to check out the garage. She’s the only one of the four that has been remotely curious about the garage. I have seen her little head through the dog door before, but she’s never ventured all the way inside. Marguerite knew what was coming. That afternoon, it started snowing and it has been snowing off on and on every since. The forecast for the rest of the week shows each day colder than the one before with snow every day.

Some archeologists believe that early humans may have survived winter by hibernating. If I could crawl into bed and not come out until the tulips start poking up through the earth without losing my job, this would be the last blog entry for a while. I am not genetically built for this kind of weather. I am not mentally built for this kind of weather.

We left a bowl of queso briefly unattended on the coffee table the other night and Josephine ate all of it. She ate a whole bowl of cheese and if she had problematic consequences from that, she took it outside. Josephine is my spirit animal. I want to eat a whole bowl of cheese and then crawl into bed without stomach cramps or diarrhea. On my not in the office days, I’ve gotten into the habit of not bothering to put on a bra. Three times now I have gotten completely dressed for going into the office only to realize that I had forgotten to put on a bra. So far, I have peeled off my layers of clothing and put on a bra, but I fear that it won’t be long before I just shrug and walk out the door without it. I was raised by a proper Southern woman who was born before the era of optional undergarments. Me not wearing a bra is a big deal. It tells you how much I have grown with being confident with this body. It also tells you how much I’ve grown in apathy.

This weather has me craving warm bowls of food. Except I am not craving bowls of chili or potato soup. I want bowls of Ethiopian food with a plate of injera. I have been thinking a lot about how to celebrate this month of Black History. In fact, I have deleted several posts on the subject. I will never not be mad about how my public education failed to teach me so many things and provide diversified history classes. I will never not be disgruntled about having Black History month in the shortest month of the year. To fill in the gaps of my knowledge, I have incorporated Black authors into my every day reading. I want to be a better citizen and I believe that diversifying my knowledge will help me actually be a better citizen. I don’t limit myself to the month of February for this, but I do feel the need to acknowledge this month in some way. I think I might do that with food.

So that’s my plan on warming my soul through the next few weeks of winter, while at the same time honoring Black History month. I am going to learn how to make misir wat and injera while learning about the culture. I am going to fill my belly with warm spicy lentils and tangy injera.

A FULL TABLE

Cindy Maddera

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I have some time right now. So I opened up my outline for the Table Stories book idea to see what was next in my list to work on. The outline read “Shrimp: Chris, New Orleans” and I slumped while whispering “fuuuuck me”. The last story I wrote in this series was hard. In fact it was so difficult and released so much buried feelings that I thought that story was going to be the worst of it. Silly, silly Cindy. You think I’m going to give up alcohol for a month and write about Chris in New Orleans during the same month in which I watched his body break down and disintegrate? Look, I ain’t no emotional superhero. I think I’m going to skip that one for now and move on to a story that I have been craving.

When we were all young and still in undergrad, Chris and I would host Breakfast Nights in the apartment we shared with Amy. The kitchen in that apartment was so small that if I wanted to make biscuits, I had to roll them out on our dining room table. I think the kitchen in my pop-up camper has the same amount of counter space as that kitchen in that apartment had. Breakfast Nights were my favorite thing. We’d start calling our friends up and tell them to come over and bring something like bacon or bread or eggs. Chris and I would stand shoulder to shoulder at the tiny stove, me flipping pancakes while he cooked bacon. The dining room table would be loaded with scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, pancakes and all the stuff to put on toast and pancakes. It was a buffet and after everyone loaded up their plates, we would all find places to sit in our living room, some of us on the couch, some of us cross legged on the floor. There would be laughter and shenanigans and sometimes, games. Everyone would leave with full bellies and it was cheap.

Breakfast Nights were my first introduction to the joy that can be had in the gathering of friends around a table. Later in life, Chris and I would share a CSA with Misti. On pick up day, we would gather in Misti’s Brokedown Palace to divide our weekly veggies. Then we’d make a dinner with some of our haul and sit around Misti’s table, eating and laughing and being silly. If the weather was good, we’d end up sitting around a fire pit in Misti’s backyard until late into the evening hours. There was so much side aching laughter. We were laughing all the time. At what, I could not even tell you. We just laughed. That is the thing that I can tell you about every gathering of friends around a table. No matter what was on that table, there was always laughter. Those of us who have been following guidelines to protect ourselves and our loved ones from a deadly virus are all really missing those types of gatherings right now. That’s probably why I am craving these memories and stories. I miss those gatherings. I miss you, but with patience and hope I know we will all have new gatherings for creating new memories.

Some day.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Cindy Maddera

16 Likes, 0 Comments - Cindy Maddera (@elephant_soap) on Instagram: "Travel day"

Today, I am headed to Washington D.C. for a cell biology conference. The last, and only time, I was in DC was for a high school band trip with an itinerary packed so full that I didn’t have time to take a breath, let alone actually really see anything. The worst moment of that trip was when our charter bus pulled up to the National Mall and our tour guide said “Do you see these Smithsonian Museums? Pick one. You’ve got one hour.” I flew through the Natural History Museum as if I was being chased by tigers. I have a hazy memory of a giant whale and the Hope diamond. I don’t expect that I will have much time for sightseeing on this trip either. I’ve already booked a round trip train ticket to Baltimore for an evening with friends where I get to Baltimore around 4:00 in the afternoon and leave at 5:30 in the morning the next day.

I told my friends that I would be sneaking out of their house that morning. I’m reliving my twenties.

This (too) short visit to Baltimore and the conference are going to take up a majority of my time. I have done some research on places where I might leave Chris and I have narrowed down my list of possible museum visits. Really, I have done the most research on where I am going to eat while I am there. There’s a place called Hip City Veg that I am very excited about and it is like a vegan Shake Shake. DC saw an influx in Ethiopian refugees in the 70s and 80s, fleeing from a war-torn nation. Because of this, Ethiopian food is a big part of the food scene in DC. My plan is to eat my weight in y’ misir we’t and injera. I also have a vegan falafel place on my list. In fact, I am more excited about my food options than I am about seeing the Capitol. Which is fine. My belly can be the tourist on this trip. Really…my belly tends to be the tourist on most trips.

Food is culture and I can’t think of a better way to explore a city and learn about the people who live there then by eating their food.

I’m excited to finally be going back to Washington DC and having the opportunity to explore it in a completely different way. DC in December is bound to be beautifully decorated with colorful lights. The weather is supposed to be mild. My conference schedule has filled up with talks and demos that I think sound really interesting. It is also a spicy time to be in DC with all the political drama. And as I sit here thinking about it all, I have to stop and take a moment to be grateful for such an opportunity. Sometimes my life really looks like it couldn’t possibly belong to me. Both in good ways and bad ways. Right now, in this moment, I am thankful for the good.

DIET

Cindy Maddera

12 Likes, 1 Comments - Cindy Maddera (@elephant_soap) on Instagram: "We bought both"

Michael sent me a text early last week asking me how I felt about the Keto diet. I was glad this was coming at me through text instead of face to face so he couldn’t see me roll my eyes and gag myself with my finger. This is my reaction to any fad diet or even to the word ‘diet’. So I replied by asking why he wanted to talk about this Keto diet. Things have gotten a little off the rails for him since his summer vacation started. He and the Cabbage often have fast-food lunches while they’re out and about during the day. Then there’s the snacks and the booze and he was feeling it. I suggested that we do a week long reset where we basically eat a vegan gluten-free diet without caffeine and alcohol. Surprisingly enough, he was completely on board. So we came up with a meal plan for the week and I carefully picked out recipes that are big on flavor so he wouldn’t miss stuff like cheese. And meat.

The first time I did this kind of reset, Chris and I were living in Oklahoma and I was in yoga teacher training. I did it for a week and it was the most difficult food week I have ever experienced. I did not know what I was doing. I was not a creative cook. Ingredients where hard to come by without spending a whole paycheck. Shopping took hours and hours because of all the label reading and the traveling to three different grocery stores. All of that combined with the sudden loss of the refined sugars and caffeine that I was used to made me want to punch people in their faces. This week has not been at all like that first week. There’s a few reasons for that. One is that I already mostly eat this way. When I do the grocery shopping for the week, most of groceries have to be refrigerated. Very few cans or packaged goods have to be put into the pantry. Our grocery gathering is split between two grocery stores: Trader Joe’s and Aldi. Both of these places make it really easy for me to buy unprocessed and healthy foods without breaking the bank. I ended up reading labels on a few items like enchilada sauce (contains sugar, made my own) and salsa (the Aldi Simply Nature line salsa contains sugar…don’t be fooled by branding), but most of the list consisted of fresh vegetables. You don’t have to really read those labels.

The meal plan for the week doesn’t look too different from another week except minus the cheese and maybe fish. We had quinoa stuffed portobello mushrooms with a kale salad one night and enchiladas the next. Buddha bowls are planned for one night and lintel sweet potato masala for another. Michael gets up in the morning and eats breakfast with me before he has to get the Cabbage up for summer camp. This morning we talked about making this a regular thing for at least the summer. Sunday through Thursday we’ll have vegan dinners and lunches. That gives us Friday and Saturday night to be more flexible with the meal. Maybe eat a pizza or cook a whole fish on Saturday. Try out a new restaurant. When I think about it, this is exactly how I was eating in my single times. I’d treat myself to a nice lunch out somewhere on Saturdays but mostly I was cooking at home and leaned towards the foods that made me feel good after eating them. Most of those meals were vegan.

I am surprised at how well Michael has taken to this food change. He’s missing his tea and maybe cheese right about now, but all in all he’s fine. It was even his idea to extend this change through the whole summer. I guess if I had to choose a word for this summer, a theme word, it would be ‘change’. There’s a lot of change happening around here. We’ve seen friends head off to new adventures in a new city. We’ll be seeing another friend off to a new adventure and restart to his life at the end of summer. I’ve been working really hard at believing in myself and making changes in my life to reflect that belief. It only makes sense to make some minor changes with our food. In this case, I’m making a change back to a way of life that had become normal for me at one time. It feels like slowely settling back into a beanbag chair and that doesn’t at all sound like a bad place to be.

I AM NOT A VEGETARIAN

Cindy Maddera

14 Likes, 2 Comments - Cindy Maddera (@elephant_soap) on Instagram: "Today's pizza"

My chiropractor recommended that I start taking collagen every day for joint support. She said “it’s great! You can’t even taste it when you mix it with water or almond milk.” After she said this, I started seeing collagen supplements every where and I got curious. Translation: I fell for the hype of collagen supplements. I could not find any vegetarian collagen at the health food store. The marine based collage (from fish) was super expensive. So, I ended up with straight up collagen made from cows. Every morning, Monday through Friday, I dump a scoop and half of bovine collagen in to my almond milk.

And I hate it.

It makes my almond milk taste weird and if it’s not stirred well enough you end up swallowing goopy clumps of collagen. I have been drinking it for a month and I do not feel a difference in my old lady achy joints. I feel guilty for drinking crushed up cow cartilage. I feel guilty for buying crushed up cow cartilage. You are probably wondering why I don’t just stop drinking the collagen and throw it out. Well, bovine collagen is only slight less expensive than marine collagen. Since both of my parents taught me to value a dollar, I cannot just throw out a $40 tub of bovine collagen powder. So I will continue to drink my collagen laced almond milk every morning while grimacing and crying on the inside as I think about the process of grinding up cows. Then I will never buy another container of it again, so help me God.

Sometimes I fall for the next big health craze. I’ve done lemon water first thing in the morning and have mixed apple cider vinegar with honey in water. I didn’t really see or feel any different after a few weeks of either of those routines. I did the Cleansing Diet once. That’s the one where you give up sugar, gluten, animal products, alcohol and caffeine. I did this for a week and it ultimately lead to me becoming mostly vegetarian. It turned me into a label reader and it’s why most of the food on our grocery list is fresh produce. There might be one or two canned items on the list, but mostly everything goes in the fridge. Chris and I did a juice diet once. I lost five pounds which I quickly gained back and had a roller coaster mood. I could hug you and then turn right around and punch you in the throat. The only thing gained from that health craze was the thrill I got from pulverizing stuff in the juicer. I’ve been drinking kombucha with my lunch for months now. I have seen a slight reduction in my belly, but that could also be from the forearm plank challenge I’ve corralled half the guys in my office into doing everyday. Sometimes I end up doing the challenge twice, once on my own and again with the group. That means this week, I’ve done two minute forearm planks twice a day.

I can become so neurotic about my food.

I’m trying to be less neurotic and more obsessive about really good ingredients. I am going to the Asian Market this weekend to buy miso that has been aged no less than three years and smoked bonito. I am trying to find a way to purchase fresh (not frozen or canned) snails. I am in the early stages of trying to convince Michael to buy me an Italian Red Cow so that I can start making my own parmesan cheese. We were talking about turnip greens at work the other day and my boss said “I can get you turnips. My Dad plants them as a cover crop.” I told him to bring me all of the turnips and greens he could shove into a bag. I’ve had visions of steaming bowls of seasoned turnip greens ever since. I put smoked oysters on my half of the pizza I made on Sunday and marveled at the smokey rich flavor the oysters added to the pizza. I want to make hearty rich sauces that requires quality butter and wine.

I am not in search of exotic flavors, but true authentic flavors. This country is a melting pot of cultures, yet I find that so often the flavors of those cultures are diluted in order to not overwhelm someone not used to those flavors. I’ve been to Chinese restaurants that have an ‘American’ menu and a ‘Chinese’ menu. The items between those two menus differ greatly. My favorite Vietnamese restaurant is the one that is crowded and a little dirty. We always end up sharing our table with another couple. The egg rolls remind me of the ones Chris’s mom makes. The best Mexican place is the taquiera that has there menu written out daily on a chalkboard. The taco fillings are determined by what ever the butcher or fishmonger had available that day.

I want to fall for the fad of undiluted.

THE FARM LIFE

Cindy Maddera

12 Likes, 1 Comments - Cindy Maddera (@elephant_soap) on Instagram: "Calvin #bonnieviewfarm"

Michael's been reading a book about food and how he should eat this instead of that. A lot of the information he's getting is about the dangers of processed foods and industry farming. He tells me things and I just kind of nod my head. He's learning about all the things Chris and I learned about food years ago when we watched all of the documentaries and read all of the books. We fell down a rabbit hole of organic, responsibly sustainable food and how to get them on our tight, almost nothing food budget. Those were the days when Saturdays were devoted to grocery shopping and it took us all day to do it because we had to travel to at least three, sometimes four, different places spread out across the OKC metro to get all of our groceries for the week. The breaking point came when Chris and I went on a road trip and stopped at a convenient store for a snack. I walked out in tears because I couldn't find anything to eat. That's when Chris realized I might have gotten a little out of control and that we needed to find a better balance. 

And we did. I did. 

So, I'm listening to Michael tell me why we should only eat grass fed beef and how sugar is the enemy as if it's all new information and I am clueless about all of it because we all need to discover things on our time, in our own way. I know the rabbit hole he's about to fall down. I told him about how I'd been using "Do what you can with what you have, where you are." as a meditation mantra and how it is not a bad mantra to apply towards food. He agreed. We still ended up visiting a farm Saturday morning to look into buying some pork chops. Bonnie View Farm is seriously eight miles from our house, which sounds surprising because we are in such an urban city area. Just a few minutes south and suddenly you're in rolling hills and pasture. Bonnie View looks like any other midwest farm house, painted a buttercream yellow with a wrap around porch. The farm itself is tucked down the hill behind the house. You wouldn't even suspect that there was a working farm there if they didn't have a sign posted out front. 

We got out of the car and stepped into the cold, just as Justine, one of the owners, stepped out of the small barn that acts as their store and houses their giant freezer. She greeted us warmly and beckoned us all to come inside where it was a little bit warmer. Two of her older children where in the process of moving chickens from the coops to the pasture. She said that the chicks should have been moved out there weeks ago, but with weather being so cold they had had to leave them in the coops to keep them warm. Then she got down to business and talked pork and bacon with Michael. She said that she does have some greens that she grows in her hoop house and she'd have them on her list whenever they are available. We talked about vegetable gardens. She agreed with me about the work. Her two oldest daughters where the gardeners of the family and when they got married and moved out, Justine let the garden go. We chatted about seeds and piglets and then I asked if I could take pictures. Justine said "let me go get one of the girls to take you down to the barn." Her daughter Emma came out and took us down to the barn to see the baby goats and a calf.

They were all so nice. 

And relaxed. 

Even when we noticed that one of the chickens had escaped. Justine and Emma slowely circled around the chicken, which led to a chase into some fencing before Justine calmly scooped up the bird. They all shrugged their shoulders as if to say "this is life on a farm." For just a tiny half minute, I thought I could get used to life on a farm. Then it snowed on Sunday and I started looking at retirement villages in Mexico. The thought quickly shifted to 'I could get used to visiting this farm'. Hopefully, the next time we do visit, we will be able to go on our scooters.

THEN AND NOW

Cindy Maddera

"I remember walking past this pretty yoga studio years ago. Now I'm going to a class there. #yogapearl"

All those years ago we travelled to Portland. How long ago was that? Six years? Probably longer. We used to tell people that we'd left our souls here. Chris, Amy, Brian and I wandered the streets of downtown for days. I remember passing this hip looking yoga studio and being sad that I didn't have time to take a class. Also feeling a little relieved. It was fancy and fancy intimidates me.  

I wandered by it again on this trip. Yoga Pearl. Same look. Cute little super clean food restaurant attached to the side. I thought "I'll go to a class this time." I signed up and paid online for the class so I wouldn't be able to back out and panic at the last minute. Determined. I left our condo and arrived way too early. That's the thing I do when I'm anxious.  I walked around the block just to kill some time and then roamed the tiny display of yoga props and clothes in the front of the studio. I felt out of place. I was a poser carrying a yoga mat. Some how I managed to gather some courage though. I plopped my yoga mat down near the front of the class, claiming my space with some yoga props. I would smile and find joy in this new place, this new class. And I did. My mat became my island and I sank into the poses with a smiling heart. 

I've worked to make this trip my own. It was hard not to travel the same paths we travelled together on that first trip. My first day there I ended up at all the favorite restaurants even though I told myself I would not do repeats. Peanut butter, banana and chocolate chip pancakes are hard to resist. Then I let myself be talked into renting a bicycle and I found myself in new neighborhoods with new restaurants. I rode the tram. We didn't do that the last time. Now I've ridden two trams in one summer. I'm hanging out in a karaoke bar tonight. I'm doing so many things outside my comfort level.

What I have learned from this trip is that my Portland of then is not the same as the Portland that is here today. There are more tourists and there are more homeless. The number of homeless here now is staggering and depressing. Housing is so much more expensive to accommodate the growing tech industry.  I realize that I am content and happy with the home I've made for myself in Kansas City. Though, Portland remains a beautiful place to visit. Traveling here is worth it just for the food. I've eaten so well here and this town does a lot to promote green spaces that I love so dear. I've nearly wrecked my bike three times while gawking at community gardens. I believe that Kansas City is within reach of all of those things as well. 

Spending time with Todd and his family has been oh so good. The boys have grown so much and so fast and it warms my heart to see Yuko so happy. Evenings chatting about all things with Todd has awakened a section of my brain that's been sleeping or zoned out. I will leave a piece of my heart here when I leave. I will be sad to say my goodbyes to Todd and his family. I will be sad to say goodbye to that dream Chris and I had of living here one day, but dreams fade and new ones take their place. Yes, I will leave a piece of my heart, but I'll take my soul back with me. 

LOVE THURSDAY

Cindy Maddera

Cookbooks A year ago Chris and I decided to change the way we eat. I was resistant and pouty at first because I new it meant more work. I didn't see how we could possibly do it considering that we live in a very Wal-Mart dominant City. That first grocery shopping trip to the health food store took hours. We had to read every label, ponder every purchase, and gulp over the final bill. But we learned what to buy and where to buy it and now the weekly grocery shopping trip is an outing that we actually enjoy.

But it doesn't end with the shopping. I enjoy planning our meals. Even when I come home from a long tiring day, I find joy in chopping and preparing the evening meal. I've begun to rely on cookbooks and my collection of them is growing. The last time I was home I was even able to pry some of Mom's old recipe cards from her. I now have the only written copy of the famous Pea-picking Cake. I've promised Chris that recipe stays just between us, but I will tell you that there are no peas in the cake. In fact, no one has any idea why it's even called Pea-picking Cake. But we all agree that it is the best cake ever.

My initial fears over the big food change was just silly. We all know how important food is, particularly the right food. Most of those great memories of childhood revolve around the family gathering around the dinner table or hanging out in the kitchen. And it's only right that it should be a huge part of our attempt to think out of the box and try new things.

Happy Love Thursday.

EASY AS APPLE PIE

Cindy Maddera

Someone had apples at the farmer's market today and I thought "hmmmm....apple pie". So I bought some apples and when we got into the car The Splendid Table was the radio and Melissa Clark was talking about her 20 ingredient pie recipe. I was inspired. OK, I wasn't too keen on the idea of putting 20 different ingredients into my apple pie. I am a purist at heart. But it did make me wonder why I never thought of adding anything like nuts or dried cranberries. My apple pie has always been every one's favorite (remember my gift for crust?). I've used the same recipe from my Mamaw's old Betty Crocker cookbook since I learned to bake. It's a simple recipe of apples, sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg. But today I added walnuts, dried cranberries and cardamom. It was the best idea. Perfect for a crisp day like today and all that was missing was the vanilla ice cream.

Apples, cranberries, walnuts

Finished pie

The idea of adding something to an old tried and true recipe got me thinking about other things, about how it's so easy to stay inside our little boxes. This seems to be my year for thinking outside the box. It's as simple as adding sauteed veggies to Mac-n-cheese or cranberries to the apple pie.

WHAT'S HAPPENING IN OUR KITCHEN

Cindy Maddera

One of Chris's favorite meals is chicken pot pie. We used to make it with canned chicken, a can of veg-all, a can of cream of something soup and store bought pie crust. Well, we don't eat that way any more so the recipe had to be revised. Even after a bit of revision, I was still using bought pie crust and cream of mushroom soup. The bought pie crust is just silly. If there's one thing I know how to make, it's pie crust. Crust is my super power. Since moving in with Chris's mom, I haven't been all to keen on the idea of baking. I don't have enough counter space (even in the "new" kitchen, I say "new" because it's the exact same, just with new cabinets). My rolling pin is in storage so I have to end up using the giant pestle that goes to his mom's mortar set. These are lame excuses to say that I'm lazy. So on Sunday, I decided to make us a proper pot pie. I chopped up some veggies.

Veggies

I made pie crust.

Pie crust

I mixed up an organic packet of mushroom sauce to coat all the veggies.

Filling

Put the top crust on and baked for about 45 min.

Veggie Pot Pie

And it was delicious.

Swirl

The end.