New Leaf(s) and Neglect

Oh blog! How I've neglected you! And how I love you so. So this is my official apology for leaving you here on your lonesome for so long. I've been going through a lot of changes. And not the awkward adolescent kind, but more the liberating adult kind! Wait... that description sounds weird too. Let me clarify. Since we last spoke, I've returned to my normal job, gotten promoted, moved into my very first all-mine apartment in St. Louis (yippee!), cleared away some much unneeded inconveniences in my life and returned to the arms of someone I missed quite a bit. But enough of that boring gab! Let's get to food!

I've definitely had some slumps in the kitchen arena. It's odd, but since I began cooking (legitimately) I had never really struggled too much. Most things I baked (because I'm a sweets junkie) turned out fine- as intended. And perhaps I just got a bit too daring, but for a little bit there, most baked goods were ended up as flops. :( But! Things have taking a turn for the better and just in time for the season change. Which I am utterly stoked about. Yes, I know it's still a bit early, but I've seen leaves on the ground gosh darn it so in my mind Autumn is right around the corner. So back to what's new in food. Along with my new, quaint apartment came a kitchen! Did I mention I have it to myself. Well, I do. So far, I've filled it with one fancy schmancy chef's knife. I went with Global, as recommended by Giada. I spent $100 and let me tell you it was just like they say- worth every single penny! I got a chopping block and a grill pan- finally. And the most exciting purchase, was a 12-cup Kitchen Aid food processor which arrived just the other day and has yet to be used. But no worries I will be breaking in that bad boy tomorrow when I do the prep work for Tuesday night- aka Lasagna night! So now that I'm all settled in, here's my commitment to you, blog and/or readers. For every dish I photograph, I will write you a post. Promise. Until the next recipe please enjoy this "slideshow" of the past couple on months my stomach lived. : )

Rumnog Pecan Cookies via Veganomicon

My failed attempt to veganize Giada's PB Cookies w. Jam

Indian spiced baked tofu wrap on spicy flat bread

French Bread pizza with roasted red pepper, artichoke & sundried tomatoes

Quinoa & Zucchini Stuffed Peppers!

I've been doing my best to stuff my boyfriend with pasta- his favorite. Anticipate the blog leaning Italian. Until next time!

Pretzels

I find it quite peculiar the things that people leave behind in your life. There are suddenly objects and smells and ghosts of their essence. Anyone- from ex-friends to ex-lovers to ex-family members. They leave gifts and memories and foods and verbiage and habits and inside jokes and the list goes on. It’s astonishing to reflect on how much other people shape you and your life. It’s always something so simple and insignificant that leaves its mark. And in the present it means little to nothing, but in the past it’s so much more attention jerking. So defining. And there are times left for consideration of who and what would you be if not for these mere moments. Or at least there is for me. And I hope if I’m verbalizing my thoughts with any ounce of success, you can relate at least a tad. An ex-friend of mine once told me that for every failed relationship, she tries to evaluate what she gained that was positive from the “failure.” I’ve always loved that concept. It seemed wise and mature and healing. So if I feel like I’m becoming my mother, I focus on her admirable qualities. And from the ex-besties- what would I be without that one person to carry me through everything little and big event during the time span of us? But lately, it’s been about pretzels. Of which I am now, but was never prior, an advocate. Racheal Ray has said that food is the best way to take you back to a memory- even more so than a photo album. I absolutely could not agree more on how much food and love intertwine. In this instance, it’s not so much about the food, but rather the symbolism in it. Pretzels are a snack that I had given up on years ago and one that I never saw myself liking. That symbolism couldn’t be more fitting. And it couldn’t be less about the food and more about the new perspective and altered mindset. I took a chance and tried something “new” and in a teensy huge way, I’m a completely different person. And my reminder is a baked, knot-formed biscuit. Peculiar.

Creature of Habit

I would like to believe- no, actually I know that I've come a long way in my life. This past Thursday, I turned twenty-one. Finally an adult in our legal system's eyes. And for a twenty-one year old, I believe I'm ahead of the curb in maturity and responsibility and sensibility. I swear those are more than just my own thoughts- it's a fairly common review. I've made a lot of tough choices within my short time on this earth and I've dealt with the consequences of every one of those choices, for better or worse, all on my own. Growing up far too fast is a tragedy I am in many ways thankful for. It made me, me- the strong, extremely independent little lad I am today. Believe me, I'm as insecure as any young woman, but in most aspects I take a great deal of pride in all that I am. Still, with all the positive steps Ive taken toward the future I think I'll always want, I find myself getting in my own way in the same old ways I always have. And I'll repeat those slightly destructive behaviors. Like doing in excess and texting the Ex. Sometimes it feels that for the life of me I just can't respect the lines I draw for myself. And I compromise too much and I make excuses for people who hurt me. And maybe that's a self-esteem issue I need to address personally. Now, in yet another state of personal doubt in which I'm questioning how much progress I've actually made, I resolve to simply push forward. What else could asked of one little lad? Although I'm tempted to fly off the handle with brash behavior and give into my desire for an easier day to day by living as Sharon Stone would recommend, shamelessly, I'll stay the course. Because I'm no Sharon Stone and I wouldn't know who I am if I wasn't exactly how I am. As for those pesky vices, here's to endless attempts to permanent change. I'd like to think, no I know that that's a major part of what makes me me- I refuse to give up.

Knowing When to Fold 'em

When I was young (or younger) a family court judge told me, “…friends come and go.” Sad and true. When you’re little and nestled in your cozy family home, life seems safe and perpetual. Then along comes adolescence and you’re introduced to heartbreak. Your world ends and then continues and ends again and then somehow continues once more. Eventually, you learn that change is normal and unavoidable and you accept it…for the most part. Today I glance around my newly re-entered office to see quite the laundry list. My first week back awoke quite a variety of emotions in me. I see before me an uncomfortably lengthy series of burned bridges and estranged persons. And though I also see many familiar friendly faces, I can’t help but step back to scrutinize the choices I’ve made and responses I’ve chosen in the past year and some change. I cannot deny that I’ve misjudged and cut ties prematurely. Luckily, many have been amended. And I try to believe that those not amended are relationships I'm better off without. It's funny how fragile friendship is. Relationships begin and end so abruptly. And of course, they always start out great. I'd say that's the danger. If everything starts perfectly, it's easy to be in denial of the end. Thus, my eternal struggle: knowing when to let go. Knowing what, or rather, who is best for yourself seems almost as hard as choosing who/what is best for yourself. It's probably an American characteristic, but I'm passionate and compulsive and I want what I want. And so I often struggle to walk away. I imagine Ol' Blue Eyes would concur, once you've got them under your skin- they're under your skin. So here I sit- one week down and clinging to the belief that everything happens for a reason and all is exactly how it should be. And hoping that this cosmic order makes the right choices for me because, presently, I don't quite trust myself with that responsibility. And perhaps, I'll take up playing cards and practice cutting my losses.

Umbrella

The other day I was thinking about umbrellas. What clever contraptions. Whoever invented it must have had a great sense of pride for doing so. It shields us from the rain and it wraps up into a skinny little thing that takes up next to no space at all. Convenient and clever indeed. And then I got to considering how someone, someday came along and said that the regular old umbrella simply would not do. And it had to be made smaller. Small enough to fit into a purse. And we also need it to come in a variety of colors and patterns and materials and shapes. While I admire the human race's drive to continually improve, I am frustrated by our unabated insatiableness. Where does it end? At what point do we stop yearning and reach contentment? It's an exhausting cycle. We covet what we know little about. And we pursue. We are in constant pursuit. And why when we acquire exactly what we desire, we almost invariably decide it's no longer good enough? Appreciation is a greatly under-felt emotion. I guess this is why nobody stays together anymore. Or perhaps, why nobody stays in love. Across the species there is an underlying epidemic of grass-is-always-greener syndrome. I will admit that I'm speaking in generalities and also that I believe I've seen exceptions here and there. And I'm so hoping to join that minority. In the meantime, I think I just might donate a red umbrella. Because one classic, black, non-purse sized umbrella is just fine with me. Why want for more?

Flake

Good as flakes: corn, snow, red pepper and Zooey Deschanel. Not so great as flakes: fish, friends, emergency responders and boys. Why does no one know what they want anymore? I realize that I'm perhaps an exception to the rule in the way that I always have some specific goal I'm working towards. I believe I know for a fact where and how I want my life to go. And certainly to an extent, I can understand some indecisiveness in your twenties. Adulthood is a new experience and there's still so much left to learn. So much growing and so much love left to do. And I have already changed my mind a gazillion times and I probably will do so a gazillion times more. However, if I am asked, "What do you want?" I can answer...and with confidence. But I don't see many being able to do the same. Frustratingly enough, sometimes others' indecision becomes unintentionally yours. Why is it so much easier to answer what you want to be when you grow up at age 5, rather than age 25? I'd say it's American culture. We're so tangled up in contemplation of what they ("the man") tell us we should do that we forget how to know what we want. I think Millay verbalized it fairly well when she said, "We are clever,- we are as clever as monkeys; and some of us have intellect, which is our danger, for we lack intelligence, and have forgotten instinct." We're all just "in college", getting an education- a degree. Yes, create your safety net. The credentials of an education are very important. But is it any less important to be your own guide? Never forget passion. How much can one really accomplish without it? Don't be afraid to admit to yourself what you really want and never stop aiming for it. People! Let's learn to leap again!

Personal Triumphs in Food

Humming Bird Birthday Cake

Banana Maple Oatmeal Raisin Cookies

Florentine Shells & Cheese with "Chicken" Meatballs

Collards Stuffed with Red Beans & Rice

Lemon Sponge Cake

Star-struck

<--- Chef Tal Ronnen! Alrighty, so I am convinced I look like a complete goober in this photo, but I'm too jazzed about meeting Chef Tal to care. Tuesday, I took off work (quite possibly the 3rd best decision of my life) to go see Chef Tal's demo at Whole Foods and to get his book, The Conscious Cook, signed. Well ladies and gents, I'm not one who has ever really been a "fan" of anything. And I'm always fascinated by how serious some people take sports. Now, I get it! Once I saw Chef Tal, I became so giddy and unexpectedly excited. While, I was thrilled to be going from the start, I had no idea I would lose composure in such a manner. I definitely lost at least 5 years of maturity for that brief half hour. By all accounts, I'd say Chef Tal seems like a very humble, down-to-earth type guy. He was soft spoken and actually came off a bit shy. Thank goodness! Because I became a complete invert in his precense. But anywho, I really dug his vibes. He was nothing like some of those those anal, preachy vegans. He was quite gracious, in fact. In short, I was impressed. The whole experience was really reassuring. If there was any doubt in my mind that becoming a chef is "the dream", it ended Tuesday. I'd guess that getting so utterly wound up like that is fairly significant, right? It must mean that my passion's pointed in the proper direction. So here's to the journey!

"Certainty"

From time to time I question my faith in my own personal morals and life choices, as I'm sure we all do. Actually, I HOPE we all do. I can't think of anything more dangerous than blind faith. To the point- this past week has been a nervous one of sorts for me. And to that extent I've been questioning my diet (my life) and my career aspirations. Please don't mistake, I have never been as proud of anything else I've accomplished than becoming a vegan. It's something I came to completely on my own and I've never believed in anything else so strongly. However, it can be wearisome. I'm a Midwest vegan and I feel detached from nearly everyone around me. "The family that eats together, stays together." But sometimes, if you don't eat together, you never get together. Thus, many of my relationships end before they start. And true to my slightly extremest personality, veganism is something I dove into head first. It's not only what I eat, but also who I am. It's not a collection of meal choices, but a lifestyle. Hence, the gap between me and typical Midwest society extends even further. And sometimes I just want to be like everyone else. I want to throw it all away and just relate already! Because I'm only an admirer for so many things and people with such beauty and substance because they don't mesh with "vegan". I question if it's worth all the good I believe I'm doing to be seemingly so far from everyone, so disconnected. And my compromising nature tells to me sacrifice. Give it all up for them/him/her/it/us. There's so many combinations and so many closed doors. Becoming a vegan expanded my horizons, but my world got so much smaller. I gave up so much more than food types. I gave up a tremendous amount of possibility and I didn't realize that's what I was choosing at the time. And obviously, at times (like these), it's not the easiest decision for me to live with. But I stick with it. And with a quick mirrored glance at my right shoulder, I see my ink-stained mark of pride. A personal little hats off to myself. And I'm once again sure of who I am. And though I'm sure I will often feel like nothing more than a lonely little vegan, I stumbled upon a quote to drag me through that muck of my own insecurities when necessary. "I think for the most part, if you're really honest with yourself about what you want out of life, life gives it to you" - Ted Mosby (How I Met Your Mother).

Help Wanted

Monday, a job ad was forwarded to me by a person I considered newly estranged to my life. But, ah, how things have a way of sticking... Ironically, it is exactly what I looking for. A part-time position/internship at a local vegetarian restaurant. A place where I can learn and build a resume. Still, the pairing of the notifier and notification in this story made me stop to consider how something can be what you so strongly desire and also be completely wrong for you. Thus, the fear creeps in and I find myself gun shy before I've even begun. I want to cook. I love being around food- it's near an obsessive point. There's not much more relaxing than mixing batter and certainly nothing more gratifying than appeasing the mouths of many with richly sweet goodness. Being a chef (most likely a pastry chef) would be wonderful; it's the dream. But I am so so nervous that I won't find success in the field. And worse than that, I'll waste time pursuing such an aspiration. To leave such a secure career like the military to enter the restaurant biz will be the biggest leap of faith I will take in my life. Needless to say, I'm freaked. And tempted to sell out for that business degree and a stable future. And while I was struggling to embrace the reality of possibly being a "starving" chef, a friend told me something quite poetic in its own way. His words were, "No, you'll make good money doing what you'll love." And I just felt in the moment that he was absolutely right. Follow the passion and the money will come. And even if the money never comes in dollar form, what's worth more than the fulfillment of doing what you love?

Single Toothbrush

Initially, I wasn't too fond of the word "single" in this blog post's title. So true to form, I zipped on over to Dictionary.com to borrow some of the thesaurus' vocabulary. But instead of finding a synonym that really stuck me, I actually had to pause at one of the definitions. Which is:


Financial Dictionary

Single definition
The filing status used by a taxpayer who is unmarried and does not qualify for any other filing status.


Hmm...and this is the first listed definition ladies and gentlemen. It all comes down to money- the almighty dollar. And well, I'm not surprised. I experienced this first-hand while filling out my divorce paperwork. It's so strange. When you're young (at least us girls) dream about meeting the prince, falling in love, and so on and so forth and living happily ever after. But when you get a divorce, no one asks about the love. Or about the heart of it all. It's all business. Simple, cut and dry, unemotional business. Who gets what; who wants wants; who goes where. And I wouldn't begin to argue with this. In truth, marriage is simply the merging (and unfortunately, sometimes the division) of assets. It's a commitment and a safety net. A union of logic and love. And it almost feels like neither of those pairs really fit together.

So with another love lost- it's no more his and her sinks. Now yours and mine. And nearly everyday I give a long, hard look to that one, single toothbrush- giving consideration to all it means. And while I celebrate the independence declared in a word like "single", I also grieve the loneliness implied with it.

Funnily enough, my intentions were to write a more chipper blog post. If not for that definition, I believe I would have. So it really make you (or perhaps, just me) ponder at what's in a word...

Plans

Today was unexpectedly difficult. Though, in a culinary respect, it was a fairly successful day. Here's the sequence of main events: woke up, thought about him, had breakfast, thought about him, made a strawberry snack cake, thought about him, ate cake in excess, thought about him, talked to him, cried, made dinner (broiled BBQ tofu, roasted brussels sprouts, and scalloped potatoes), thought about him, ate, washed dishes, thought about him, cried, brushed my teeth, sat down at my laptop, wrote about him. Ah! Food and love- what an appropriately titled blog. Not to seem like some typical lovesick twenty-something! In this moment, I'd love nothing more than to not be a twenty-something. It's an odd age. A time when you're planning on doing all these things that society says you'll want to do and that you should do. But how much of my today should I allow societal expectations to dictate? How did everyone get so sure of what I will accomplish? And how do I trust when they say that forgoing happiness today will insure it in some unspecified tomorrow? Still, I'm a twenty-something and what do I know? In truth, I have much more of others' experience to go off of than my own. And apparently, I have only questions. So I trust because I realize that my plans are only hopeful estimates of my personal tomorrow. And in the meantime I'll "get an education", "work hard" and "save for retirement". If I'm lucky, one day, I'll "get married and have babies". And while I endure this path of conventionalism, I'll take solace in my home- the kitchen. And I'll create love in plate-sized form. I suppose that will have to do for now.

Proper Introductions

Why hello all of you out in cyberspace! I thought I'd get this blog kicked off with my self-introduction to what I hope will be a growing fan base. I'm Stephanie and here's what makes me me: I'm a vegan, a gemini, a lover of laughter and I aim for passion in all that I do. By day I'm an airman in what they tell me is "the worldest greatest Air Force" and by night I'm in the kitchen playing chef- which is an activity I've got my fingers crossed that someone, someday will pay me to do. Please come along as I attempt to make my day-to-day sound interesting enough to put to written word (insert "come with me" hand gesture here).