Hard Times

An old friend of mine has emerged from a very dark time in her life, so I took her down to the bar last night for stories and a couple of Chad's beers. The stories still rattle me as I think about them. I am sad and scared for her, but I know her strength, and her ability to recover. I am glad she is close by again.

As always, when we haven't seen each other in awhile, we mull over old stories in the midst of filling each other in on the times that we have missed. She and I spent a year backpacking and working in Central America while we were in college, and we had a lifetime of experiences in just that one year. This time we recalled the most notable Thanksgiving that either of us has ever celebrated - the Thanksgiving that we had in Costa Rica.

I remember that we were both homesick for our families and for the foods of the States especially as we approached the holidays. So we were determined to have as traditional a Thanksgiving as possible in a country where turkeys were very scarce. We must have scoured the capital city of San Jose for all of the ingredients necessary to prepare pecan and pumpkin pies, garlic roasted turkey with cornbread stuffing, cottage dill rolls and all of trimmings that go along with it. I don't remember any cranberries, but I am sure we found something to satisfy that tart tangy void. We had to buy our turkey in a Japanese import store and I am pretty sure our pumpkin pie was actually some kind of squash that we bought at the market. We spent all week preparing, and all day cooking, and yet neither one of us can actually remembering eating the meal. I mean, we both remember that it was great, the best Thanksgiving we have ever spent, but neither of us can remember sitting down and eating the meal. Isn't that crazy?

It is because it was overshadowed by the experience we had in preparing the meal. One of the teachers at our school had found a house out in the country for us to use and our only requirment was that it had an oven. It may not seem that notable but in most Latin countries, not many people have ovens and even fewer actually use them. In this house, the oven was a wood stove. So the first thing we did was make a fire and cross our fingers that we could figure out how to gauge the temperature long enough and accurately enough to cook pies, breads, and the turkey. We sat out on the wooden deck, chopping, dicing, and slicing as a hard warm rain fell. It was likely that humidity and slow roast that made our turkey the juiciest, tastiest turkey ever. We spent all day listening to music, sipping rum and cokes and coaxing our precious ingredients into a full course meal.

The lesson to be learned from this experience - that the preparation or process is critical to the outcome or success of the product. This is obviously true in most areas of life, but especially in the preparation of food or beverage and definitely in the sensory culinary experiences. One of those blatant, obvious truths that are sometimes overlooked in the rush to become successful.

In brewery news, a realtor called today with news and listings of warehouse locations. We need that physical address so that we can start on the permits and licenses as well as the logistical planning. We seem to be magnetized to the starting gate floor - ready to take off, but paralyzed in the moment. It might also be that our days are already so full with work, babies, family and preparing our house for Winter. But then again, that might just be our excuse.

P.S. Thanks to my Gram for editing this journal. My grammar and spelling have slipped notably since college so it is nice to have her helping me along.