I don’t get out to Loyal Legion a lot, but I almost always like it here.
They’ve organized their tap list so it isn’t positively crippling to grok, even if they don’t go off the beaten path as Belmont Station or some of my other favorite taprooms in Southeast Portland can, and their menu is Generally Good. The old building with its cavernous room, three-sided bar stretching the length of it, and plush conversation booths with low tables are blessedly quiet on this last Saturday afternoon of the year.
I have a locally-made stout in my hand, words in my head, and a screen and keyboard in front of me. In some comforting ways, the world doesn’t change nearly as quickly as we think.
I’m not overly excited for the new year. I look forward to working toward my various projects and goals, but I’m pragmatic enough to understand that they will (in all likelihood) be long in coming and not exactly easy. Whether it’s starting my own pie shop/truck at last, starting an actual writing career, or just continuing my career as a pastry chef, it’s going to come with complications and hurdles that I’m honestly better off not thinking too hard about.
Similarly, what I’ve come to think of as the General Ambient Fuckery of the World (GAFW) is particularly heavy and I don’t want to dedicate more metaphorical ink to that than is strictly necessary. This must be what it felt like in Arrakis when Harkonnens returned.
“Well Duke Leto wasn’t perfect and he was still an imperialist and…” Piss off with that, please and thank you. Do the dishes, pay your bills, then go save the world.
What AM I proud of, then? Coming back to myself.
A year at the winery seemed to fly by in a whirl of faces, food, and ideas. My first full year with my current team, and we delivered with aplomb. New dishes were added to the menu, old ideas were ruthlessly cut, and skills (edible and otherwise) were honed. In the schizophrenic business of restaurants, my staff and I have proven reliable- a steady set of hands that will deliver, by hook or by crook, without incident. In many ways, that’s my biggest professional brag of the year.
My “honeymoon” period with the winery is also over now. I’ve gotten to see it beautiful, and I’ve gotten to see it annoying and ugly. There have definitely been days where it felt like I was going to have to drag that kitchen over one seasonal finish line after another kicking and screaming. You don’t truly know people until you see them at their limits, where they grind their teeth and petty arguments can swell and metastasize into drama and toxicity. This year, I feel like I came back to myself in the sense of staying out of it as much as possible, out of self-respect and self-care. I learned to temper my desire to help and to soothe others by setting boundaries. “I can talk with you, and I can listen- but I cannot be your messenger, and I won’t be a dump site.”
Even with all the rough moments and big personalities over the last year, I feel like I’m often the only one in the kitchen who actually still just enjoys my job. At our annual “stay interviews”- which are exactly what they sound like, our managers sit down and ask us “why do you stay on here?”- I told the chef very simply “I stay here because I love to bake. I love to practice my craft, and this place pays me well to do it, then largely leaves me alone to do it well.“
Since taking my job at the winery, it has given me much of what I was missing in my career for the last few years- stability, peace, and pride in my craft.
“…’But how is it that all the wizards of the South… all have lost their art, but you keep yours?’
–The Farthest Shore by Ursula K. LeGuin
‘Because I desire nothing beyond my art,’ Sparrowhawk said.”
Coming back to myself has also meant coming back to the things that gave me life– namely, exercise and writing. When you love something enough to make it an important part of your life, you need to treat it like it’s important. How you do that can differ, but it always involves a certain amount of intentionality and “buy-in.” For my writing, that took the form of making my desk a space in my apartment for writing- a lucky find in a new desk, some nice candles, and decoration, all to make it clear to me that this is a place in my house sanctified to the craft of writing. I don’t care if that sounds overly dramatic- I’m a writer. I’m allowed to use hyperbole.
It’s also meant getting curious and intentional about my efforts to lose weight and get back in shape- good gym clothes, a membership to a local gym, and setting myself a schedule to keep in practice during the wetter months when I don’t want to go running so much. It also involved learning to celebrate small progress and to grant myself grace. I didn’t fall off the metaphorical wagon overnight, fixing it won’t be overnight either.
Most of all, I think having stability in my work has given me the freedom to focus on the other parts of my life, start fixing what needs fixing, and be grateful for all of it. It’s been about realizing that I have a lot to work on, but I have the space and time TO work on it, and that having anything TO work on is a blessing in and of itself.
In the new year, I want to finish my third book (I know, I know, broken freakin’ record over here) and lean into more food writing for magazines and such. Hopefully, I’ll be able to save enough that I can start my own pie truck/shop– or at least have a plan in place to get a solid business loan along with some crowdfunding. What do you think? A GoFundMe?
Above all, though, this coming year I want to spend more time just being content, and continuing to do what I love. Thank you all for sticking around and hearing my stories and musings from the kitchen- I look forward to keeping you all entertained for another trip around the sun.
Stay Classy,
The Black Hat Baker 