Ice cream isn’t going to save the day.Fear of change won. Racism won. Anti-semitism won. Anti-immigration won. Sexism won. Anti-LGBTQ won. All the -isms in the world won. And, I have a right to be scared and will stay mad. When the conservative trend was noticed in Europe and Turkey earlier this year, it was a comforting thought that we in the United States were slowly moving in a positive direction. But, when the majority of people used voting booths — similar to how the Klu Klux Klan wear hoods — to vote for a racist candidate on Tuesday, I’m wondering who among my white friends, are truly my friend.
Earlier this year, I started saying no. No to promoting food-related gadgets, because I live in a New York small apartment with limited storage. No to promoting food samples, because the pay isn’t great and the contests aren’t worth my time. No to writing reviews for below-average cookbooks, because the pay isn’t great. No to freelance design, because I design full-time during the weekday. No to doing more social media, because it’s time consuming. No to special theme Saturday brunches requiring me to discard the one day a week of sleeping in without an alarm clock. And, no to developing an editorial calendar for this food blog. I’m doing nothing with my extra time, and it feels good to be too selfish.
A few years ago, I wrote about theTaharka Brothers raising money for an ice cream truck in Baltimore, Maryland. Later, NPR.org voted Taharka Brothers as one of Maryland’s best Ice Cream shops to visit. Since then they’ve received numerous local awards. A few years ago, I wrote about the Taharka Brothers raising money for an ice cream truck in Baltimore, Maryland. I continue to follow them online to stay up-to-date with their creative events. Their initial press release and story stood apart from everyone because of the name of their ice cream flavors. The names are inspired by Cornel West, Langston Hughes and August Wilson. And, my design eye love their brand image: an ice cream sundae on top of a fist pump as the arm uses political books as a foundation.
It wasn’t until Cabot Creamery delivered a box of cheddar, that I decided to toss cheddar back into my salads. The only reason why I stopped, was because feta, parmesan or goat cheese also became a few of my favorite salad additions. As a kid, Dad used to effortlessly toss large garden salads of tomato wedges, crisp iceberg lettuce, chunky carrot slices and thick, sliced cucumbers with cheddar chunks thrown into the bowl. Other people made similar salads with cubes of meat. Dad also introduced to us to salads made with greens grown from our backyard garden. When most people were eating sweet iceberg, we were munching on delicate, bitter greens: the type of pre-washed greens most people currently buy. Today’s salads are nuanced plates with artfully arranged vegetables.
Life pulls in various directions. And, it’s okay. We got this. I hope. The last few Saturday’s we have hosted friends and family in our apartment. Meanwhile, I apologize to my landlord about the weeds growing in the pots on the stoop (she laughed). In between hosting, traveling and new projects, my Saturday mornings are the only time to regain a few hours of extra sleep. And as Saturday morning ends, I’m often torn between a sweet or savory brunch.