The day was already cooler for a Portland summer- way cooler than the oppressive heat wave we were promised for later in the week- and as the sun goes down behind the buildings and hills of the Willamette Valley, it’s starting to just get slightly chilly.
Perfect weather for eating outside and getting a cold beer or two- as long as you don’t mind your face feeling a bit warm.
Omnia mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis.
“All things change, and we change with them.”
I don’t think anyone just wakes up one morning and decides that they’re going to quit their job.
Unless a solidly impressive series of stars have aligned that let them casually drop their (usually) primary method of making money, the decision to quit a job is something that people set up the dominoes to for quite a while.
Perhaps they’ve had a side hustle going for long enough that they’d like to see if it’ll fly on it’s own. Maybe they need a break and have a support system in place while they do just that. In volatile instances, the stress, anger, and indignation they feel at their current situation finally explodes and they walk off the job on a lunch break with no end.
In any case, leaving a job voluntarily is a major life change and the process of finding a new one can be nerve-wracking. When it’s time to move on, it’s important to know why and how.
Good morning, friends and neighbors!
In the space of a year and change, I have trained ten people in some way at my bakery. Some just to pick up a couple tasks left hanging while I’m gone, others to be assistants and stand-ins so that I can take a day off now and again. They were professionals, students, coworkers, wanna-be lifers. A few were just honestly curious- like the dishwashers that wanted to learn to pipe pate au choux, or the barista with some time to kill who wanted to try a couple recipes for themselves.
A bunch stuck around for a while- some got let go. Every one of them learned something though- and I learned that I’m really good at being a big brother.
I turned 34 yesterday. 33 was a busy year for me, and I’m doing my best to be okay with that.
I really started trying to deal with issues that’d been stalking me most of my life, and finally named my demons- Depression and Anxiety.
Lately, my body has been complaining about the tolls I exact from it. Working long, busy hours, and relying on exercise as a stress reliever without truly resting is a lot for anyone to ask of the meat robot they’re piloting. Mine has been more than patient, but lately my back and shoulders have been asking me to lay off for a while.
I published my first book at age 32. I have three other manuscripts in progress, and frankly haven’t advanced as much on them in a year as I might have- much less advertised or placed faith in the book I finished that it deserves.
Yes, the world is in the middle of a fucking pandemic that my government is not managing very well. The omnipresent background anxiety has been playing havoc with my own, and what I will tactfully refer to as the recent “appropriate social unrest” makes the act of writing a fraught experience- but pretending it isn’t happening or that it somehow isn’t appropriate would be against my sense of self.
So, on the first full day into my 34th year of life, coinciding with the 244th “birthday” of my country in crisis, I chose one of the most contemplative activities I know.
I made pie.
Anthony Bourdain wasn’t my culinary hero. The closest I have to culinary heroes are Masaharu Morimoto (for my memories of him as an Iron Chef), Albert Adria for raw artisanship, and Jacques Pepin for his ability to teach.
Anthony Bourdain was a literary hero for me, and a role model for how he approached food and life. He is still an inspiration for me as a storyteller because of his ability to remove himself from the center of it. He could write himself almost as a narrator, bearing witness to the food, the people, and the stories of their lives that THEY had to tell.
That was his greatest gift to me, I think. Not just inspiration to BECOME a cook (he certainly provided that as well), but an object lesson in how to connect with others, and help them tell their stories.
The Black Hat Baker 