Category Archives: Food

Ethnic Restaurants.

Posted on 2 December 2009 | 2 comments

I am a sucker for seedy little hole-in-the-wall restaurants, particularly if they serve ethnic food. One of my favorite places I have ever been is in Chicago. When I thought I wanted to go to a PhD program for Christian ethics, which I still secretly do want to do, I went for a weekend to check out Garrett Theological Seminary. I didn’t get in there, so I gave up on that idea and became a youth minister for a few years. I wouldn’t trade those years for anything, but I would have loved to live in Chicago to attend Garrett. Most of all I would have loved to have been close to the Thai place that taught me a few lessons, though not as many as staying in the dirty hostel with no personal lockers.

I learned at the divey little Thai restaurant never to order Thai-spicy pad thai when you haven’t been to the restaurant before. I love spicy food. The spicier, the better. However, this particular Thai-hot pad thai burned my mouth so badly I drank at least four full glasses of water. My lips burned, my nose burned, my eyes watered and my skin actually turned red and got dry and cracked from the heat of the peppers. I felt like a child, but I ate it with a smile because, despite the burn, it tasted fantastic.

The only other time I have experienced anything so ridiculously hot was last summer in Savannah when I ate that chicken wing that almost peeled the skin off my face so you could see my skeleton like in cartoons when the characters get electrocuted. I mean ridiculous. I cried. My eyes didn’t just water, I literally cried from the pain. It was so intense my lips were still sore half an hour later, and I found myself wondering, why do we do this to ourselves? Easy answer: the food tastes so good, the burn is just something we have to deal with temporarily. It’s sort of like the poster that says, “Pain is just weakness leaving the body,” that hangs in almost every weight room. Not an entirely safe sentiment, but it makes us feel better about putting our bodies through unnecessary torture.

This whole post was inspired by the fact that Elizabeth and I were both starving, so I helped her get her Amtrak tickets, then we went to China Express in the village. What makes me love these little ethnic restaurants, like China Express or the Thai whatever-it-was-called in Chicago, is that when you leave and get on the bus, everyone knows you’ve been to dinner and they know it wasn’t “American” food. The same holds true with a restaurant like Ciudad Colonial or Puerto Vallarta. I like it when someone gets on the bus smelling like good food. It makes me smile.

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I am thankful for the way my dogs love me. They are so unconditional. And, I am thankful for the snow on WordPress. 😛

Exercise: walked the dogs 2 miles, walked from RB to Burris and back, ran 3 miles

Food: banana, juice, milk, waffle, Clif bar, apple, tea, Moo Shu vegetables, Klondike bar

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Posted in Food

Thanks and Food

Posted on 2 December 2009 | 1 comment

I am thankful for a literary magazine that won’t suck or be riddled with grammar mistakes and misspellings.

Exercise: ran two miles, walked the dogs 1/2 mile, biked to Burris to RB then home

Food: banana,milk, waffle, juice, cheese sandwich, apple, animal crackers, hot chocolate, nachos, diet 7-Up, Klondike bar

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Posted in Food

Pit Bulls and Parolees

Posted on 30 November 2009 | 3 comments

Tonight we watched Pit Bulls and Parolees, a show on Animal Planet. Do you suppose she would hire me to work at Villalobos Rescue, even though I am not a parolee? I think that would be the perfect job for me. I could be the chef for the pit bulls, making gourmet dog food and treats and doing nothing else but loving on dogs. I would love on mine 24/7 if I could. There is just something about a big, furry mess of a dog, particularly one with a huge mouth that peels into a smile when she looks at me. I would love to move out into the country somewhere and be a foster-family for a pit bull rescue. Maybe we can do that when we move to wherever we end up. I would love it.

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I am thankful for people who make a difference in the world. People who love the unlovable and who give second chances.

Exercise: walked the dogs 1.5 miles, rode my bike to RB to Burris back to RB and home

Food: banana, waffle, tea with milk, juice, cheese sandwich, apple, pretzels, chocolate milk, two pieces of double-crust pizza, salad, mint M&Ms

3 Comments

Posted in Food, Grace, Relationships

Wow. Strange Days.

Posted on 29 November 2009 | 3 comments

I love The Doors’ song “Strange Days,” and I think applies to this weeks reflections from my Burris students: “Strange days have found us. Strange days have tracked us down. They’re going to destroy us, our casual joys. We shall go on playing or find a new town.” I don’t expect my students to love everything I love, but I find it hard to believe the fact that the Beat poets aren’t at least liked by some of them. Maybe it is because I wanted to spend an entire week on them, but since we missed two days, which we still have to make up, for the swine flu, we only got to talk about them for two days. I despise teaching all of American Literature in one semester. I think it short changes the students. However, I am still amazed that the Beat poets aren’t some of their favorites. To each his or her own, though. I still love my Burris kids. They rock.

When I was in high school, I absolutely loved the Beat poets. I remember thinking they were my saving grace because they talked so much about how corrupt our culture was/is and how we needed to majorly overhaul it if we were going to survive. I loved the apocalyptic nature of their writings and how they sought to confuse the boundaries between the sacred and the secular. I mean, how genius is it to resurrect a dead poet, Walt Whitman, and then talk about how the speaker follows him through grocery store while he is eying the grocery boys, stealing food, and avoiding the store security? It’s fucking brilliant.

Maybe this is a sign of a generational shift. Or maybe I am simply abnormal, which is probably more likely. I can remember Jaymes and I being (or fantasizing about being) so counter-cultural. We read Kerouac and ate him up with a spoon. We started an underground newspaper to rage against the machine before the band was even popular. I just think I should have been born in the late 40s so I could be a hippie. My blood runs pinko and sentiments do too. Either way, at least my students have been exposed to a group of writers whose influence is still felt in many ways.

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I am thankful for the ability to agree to disagree with people. And, I am thankful there are multiple churches that reach multiple audiences.

Exercise: none, absolutely none, I read all day

Food: banana, juice, strawberry Belgian waffle, nachos at La Palma, black bean burger and veggies at Chili’s, chips and salsa

3 Comments

Posted in Food, Literature, Politics, Queer, Reading, Religion, School, Teaching

The Salt Eaters

Posted on 28 November 2009 | Leave a comment

I spent the better part of today rereading a book that I read last spring semester. I had been warned that I would one day open a book that I had read in graduate school, one that had my notes and everything in it, and forget that I had read it. I didn’t expect, however, to forget the contents of a book that I just read last semester. I know I read it. I remember because I remember the bus driver and being just as confused about what was going on with him and driving the bus into the marsh. I simply have no idea how the book ends or what is really going on it. I seem to remember that it all comes together in the end.I am just happy that there is so much about healing and wholeness in the book.

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I am thankful for the healing of my foot. It seems to feel much better today.

Exercise: walked the dogs 2 miles

Food: banana, juice, strawberry Belgian waffle with whipped cream, spinach and spring greens salad with poppyseed dressing, sunflower seeds, and cheese, cheese cube and piece of bread, tomato soup, grilled cheese on homemade bread, two long carrots

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Posted in Food, Reading, School