We all need a break from our hurried lives to do a bit more of what we love to do. In my case, I love food writing and developing recipes in my spare time, when I’m not doing design work for a nine to five job. Sure, there are more demanding tasks, but this time, I took a break from more important work to contribute a recipe to Black History Month’s Potluck, a group of African-American food bloggers sharing recipes during February. My recipe: Southern Style Caesar Salad with Cornbread Croutons.
My office laughed at me, because I admitted there isn’t a bottle of ketchup in my refrigerator. It’s a condiment that isn’t hated or loved. Just a sweet bottle in every American kitchen, except for mine. The office conversation started, because I told them how ketchup packets were found ‘hidden’ in a kitchen drawer from a past delivery. My other half placed them there, and I knew to leave them alone. Packets of soy sauce, duck sauce, mustard, salt and pepper from previous delivery services are immediately thrown away, because we have better quality bottles in the pantry cabinet. It’s a better compromise, because a large bottle of unused ketchup sitting in the refrigerator is what I don’t want. Since, that office conversation, I’ve thought of buying ketchup, but mind changes when approaching the cash register.
Happy Black History Month 2018. I’m using this opportunity of celebration as an opportunity to promote self care by reminding visitors about the importance of seeking professional medical assistance. Here’s my story:
One sunny summer day, I walked into my dentist office to complain about the pain of my shifting teeth and to make sure there wasn’t an underlying problem. I walked out with an autumnal schedule for a root canal and an appointment with a gum specialist who would later require surgery to be done in two phases. The dentist said I was a few months away from having one tooth swell with excruciating pain. It may sound like horrific news, but if I reframe my experience, I’m relieved to have caught these problems early, and lucky to have pretty good dental insurance to help pay for the work (I’m still broke).
Words escape my mind in an attempt to write a follow-up to last year’s story, Vanilla isn’t White. Instead, breaking news headlines are a cacophony of words. But, long-live visual artists who have the courage to inspire us into action and remind us that today’s politics aren’t normal. This past summer, The Brooklyn Museum had an inspiring exhibit, We Wanted a Revolution: Black Radical Women, 1965–85. Last week, I visited the Whitney Museum’s exhibit, An Incomplete History of Protest: Selections from the Whitney’s Collection, 1940–2017. It was at the Whitney Museum, I read a poem by W. H. Auden: September 1, 1939. It’s an inspirational poem written on the onset of World War II. Sadly, Auden’s words continue to be applicable today.
Have a story about your favorite pasta salad? Talk to me in the comment section below. In my experience, pasta salads truly are the side dish to a barbecue or special event. Sans meat, it’s a classic vegetarian dish. Meanwhile, we attempt to serve vegans — who don’t eat dairy — a mayonnaise-based pasta version. It’s often an “oops… we spent hours rubbing down ribs with spices and marinating chicken — let’s quickly make a vegetable” dish. As an afterthought dish, pasta salads often taste like no love.