Fervent Foodie

I hate birthdays.

July 12, 2012 7 Comments

I hate birthdays.

Every year around my birthday I find myself falling into an unavoidable slump. It’s not like it used to be back when I was in my early twenties and we celebrated birth-weeks instead of days. Back then you were something special on your birthday–the queen of the night, the damsel to be doted on–and simply uttering “it’s my birthday” got you on the VIP list.

It’s even harder to compare today’s birthdays with birthdays of my childhood. Back then birthdays were the highlight of the entire year, just after Christmas and right before Halloween. In the weeks leading up to my thirteenth birthday, I was hit with a bout of insomnia. I was most literally too excited to sleep. I would sit in my bedroom, sweating profusely in the mid-summer heat of the night, fantasizing about my impending slumber party. I’d think about what I would wear and the games that we’d play. I’d triple count the number of friends who had rsvp’d. I’d estimate the birthday loot I’d rake in by multiplying each family member times their average historical gift. Then I’d visualize all the new school clothes I could buy with the money, and how cool I’d be rolling into 8th grade in a new pair of wide leg J’nco’s and contrasting Billabong T. My stomach ached with excitement, and when I could think of nothing else to plan nor additional calculations to perform, I resorted to putting together thousand-piece puzzles to pass the hours. Each dawn I’d pull out my notepad with my hand-drawn countdown calendar and scratch off another day. Twenty seven days down, nine days to go. Only nine more days!

Birthdays aren’t like that any more. If I’m being honest here, and trust me I am, there’s a part of me that wants birthdays to be special like they once were. These dark thoughts leave me feeling silly, guilty even, for wanting something so childish. Birthdays aren’t special like they used to be because I’m a grown ass woman now. Now birthdays consist of working (like a responsible adult), eating a sensible lunch, and dissuading conversations that start with “oh my gosh, it’s your birthday?” or “have any big plans for your birthday?” and especially “soooo, do you feel any older?” All of this unusual attention inevitably makes me feel devoid because no matter what I’m doing to punctuate the day of my birth it’s not enough. It’s no slumber party with 8 of my closest friends, it’s no free-shot-filled night on the town, and it’s most certainly no week-long celebration where “because it’s my birthday” serves as my steadfast mantra.

Today is my birthday.

Today is my birthday, and I am not this day’s princess nor am I this day’s queen.

Today is my friggin’ birthday.

Where’s my chocolate cake?

Features, Restaurants

Ten Courses at Bistro La Bon–Charlotte, NC {Restaurant Review}

July 10, 2012 5 Comments

The chef approached our table. Instinctively, I sat up straighter, excited, as if I’d been approached by a celebrity (and in my eyes I had). He smiled. I smiled.

“I’m Chef Majid Amoorpour.”

My grin widened as I recalled thinking this restaurant, his restaurant, Bistro La Bon specialized in French food. Not quite (thankfully), despite what the name suggests. I looked up at the chef, still starstruck, as he asked if we had any allergies. We did not. Then he asked if there was anything we generally did not enjoy eating. Immediately, the words “RAW MEAT” scrawled through my thoughts in giant blood red letters, but as I began to relay this tidbit to the chef, I hesitated. Something about him–his warm demeanor, or the way he stood so serenely with his hands gently clasped in front on him, or maybe it was just his easy smile–made me trust him. I wanted to eat anything he cooked. I wanted to go wherever he wanted to take me. I wanted to put the world in his hands.

So, I asked him to surprise us.

The chef nodded then headed back to the kitchen, and I settled into my chair. Jarrod raised his eyebrows and grinned. This would be more than a meal–this ten-course tasting would be the ultimate dining experience.

One by one, the dishes emerged from the kitchen, and we listened intently as our server, Matt, described each in enticing detail.

Course one: salmon tartare with lemon zest, sesame cracker, and fresh dill. My heart sank as soon as I laid eyes on the dish. Though I’d never tried it, I was fully aware “tartare” meant R-A-W. It’s an adjective I’ve purposely avoided on every menu I’ve been presented, with zero pause for consideration. But here, the start of ten courses at Bistro La Bon, I felt venturesome. Jarrod and I lifted the crackers gingerly to our mouths then slammed them down in single swift swallows.

It took me a minute to sift through my thoughts, quit focusing on the word “RAW!”, and think about the taste. Honestly, it wasn’t bad. Surprisingly light and bright, actually, with a lovely lemon flavor. I can’t say I’d ever order tartare on my own, but wasn’t that the point of this tasting? To try new and interesting things? To go wherever the chef wanted to take us?

Course two: fresh buffalo mozzarella with local heirloom tomatoes, sea salt, and cracked black pepper with a balsamic reduction.

This beautiful dish was one of my favorites of the night. I’m a sucker for caprese. Actually, I’m a sucker for cheese, period, and this mozzarella was soft and supple like a freshly poached egg.

Restaurants

Soul Gastrolounge—Charlotte, NC {Restaurant Review}

June 25, 2012 9 Comments

It’s been over a month since I hit the town for a gal’s night out, but I broke the dry spell last week with an evening of small plates at Soul Gastrolounge in Plaza Midwood. Located at the corner of Central and Pecan, Soul occupies the top floor of an old brick walkup. Outside, you’ll find a mid-sized seating balcony, which offers a prime vantage point for people watching.

The “gastrolounge” concept was new to me, so I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from Soul. We arrived around 7pm on a Monday evening, and the place was surprisingly poppin’. Table seating is pretty limited, so we opted to nab seats at the bar where we were brought glasses of water garnished with slices of cucumber. It was especially refreshing given how hot it has been in Charlotte lately.

The “lounge” component of the gastrolounge concept was very apparent–much of the restaurant space was occupied with eclectic armchairs and sofas, perfect for conversation but questionable for dining (especially if you’re a messy eater like me). Besides the décor, I absolutely loved the music selection. I found myself blurting “I love this song!!” every few minutes.

Ramblings

Let’s lie down.

June 18, 2012 4 Comments

I went for a run the other day. It was my first attempt in two weeks. I set out with the admirable intention of running 6 solid miles, and as I flew through those first two my goal seemed completely attainable, easy even. But then something happened around mile 2.3. My breathing became heavy and forced, and my legs moved slowly as if dragging two-ton shackles. I slowed to a walk. Step. Step.. Step…. My mind spun. “Ok, I’m stopping. I’m stopped. I’m not running, because I stopped… I’ve never stopped mid-run, but now I’m stopped, and here I am.” I looked around–at the street, the chipped sidewalk, then the grass. Everything seemed to tilt, like I’d just taken my turn in a game of dizzy bat. “I’m sitting down now, sitting down. I’m sitting down. And now I’m lying. I’m lying down. Is it laying down or lying down? I don’t know, and I don’t care because I’m lying down in the grass. This isn’t my grass… this grass I’m lying in, it isn’t mine. I hope they don’t mind, those people whose grass this is.” I lay there, arms and legs sprawled out to the sides like a beached starfish under the shade of a tree. Through the canopy of branches and leaves I could see the clouds floating calmly across the blue sky. And I lay.

I guess, sometimes, you need to lie down.

So I did.

It was unexpected and unplanned, just as I unexpectedly and unpredictably laid down my pen, my books, and my thoughts over the past few weeks. It has been three weeks since my last blog post–at least that’s what the calendar tells me. 3 weeks. Where have I been?

I know I went home to Ohio, I went to the beach, and I went to Ohio again. I know that I pondered, I caffeinated, and I mourned. We all mourned. But where have I been? Where have all my thoughts been hiding? I haven’t been present, or focused, or active in any which way, so where the heck have I been?

And what the heck have I been eating?

Ramblings

Two years of fervency!

May 25, 2012 10 Comments

Today my blog turns TWO years old! How crazy and cool is that? When I first started blogging, I didn’t know where it would take me, or who might read my ramblings, or if anyone would find my life through food the teensiest bit interesting. Despite all of that, I quickly grew to love my blog—one could say it was love at first click of the “publish” button. In looking back over the last two years, all 365 posts, I feel proud. Proud of what I’ve said, what I’ve learned, and how I’ve grown, but mostly proud because this blog is ME, Mary, a forever fervent foodie.

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