The Kid's Gonna Be Alright.
Pardon my absence last week. More work travel has gotten me fatigued and tired. My body still has to adjust to long 12+ hour workdays and it will only become worse as I have more traveling and less downtime in between each location that I’m traveling to. A traveling work perk is eating on the road. It can be fun - eating food in different places I've never been or trying things for the first time can feel like I'm living the life. Then there are days when I have to phone it in and just eat a sad sandwich or bland salad for dinner at 9 pm.
In order to keep my head from rolling off my shoulders onto the floor twice a week when I'm writing these newsletters, I have a spreadsheet with the next 4 months of newsletters planned out. Occasionally I go off "script" and write something off the cuff or that I need to get off my mind like the newsletter on food during war + crisis. I write down ideas, topics, and recipes that pop in my mind on my notes app so that I will hopefully write about them in the future.
Recently I had a craving for fried mackerel and thought it would be a great idea for a recipe to share in the newsletter. I quickly wrote down the idea without thinking much about it until I remembered that I haven't had it since childhood and would have to make it from memory. The last time it was made for me was by my father. What most people don't know (and I mean even very close friends) is that I have an estranged relationship with my dad. The last time I spoke to him and saw him was days after my mother's funeral when I was 19.
For many years I was terrified of bumping into him on the street. I'd get sweaty and anxious whenever I was close by to where he lived. If I saw someone who resembled him I'd walk the opposite way. Before my mother's passing our relationship was pretty okay. He'd take me every once in a while to the malls in New Jersey to buy a new pair of sneakers on sale. We'd eat in the food court and get samples of bourbon chicken on toothpicks. Our relationship of father and daughter was never super deep, but it felt like it was enough.
A week ago I woke up from a very realistic dream. In my dream, my sister (who would never do this by the way) had contacted my dad and had sprung him on me. Her reasoning was that he would be a great help in completing my cookbook. He could help me with recipe testing since he was a really good cook. I vaguely remember feeling a bit happy that I could show him who I’d become and what I’d done in all the years that had passed. I woke up feeling weird and confused. What exactly was my subconscious telling me?
Through many years of on and off therapy I’ve discussed that relic of a relationship, but have never found a solution. Do I send a letter to make amends? What would the letter even say? I’m good with words, but only with an audience that gets me and he hasn’t gotten me in over 15 years. Should I keep living a completely separate life in a world we both live in but never meet?
I decided to take a baby step instead. I went to the supermarket and bought a can of mackerel. I deboned the fish, breaded it in flour only, and fried it crisp. I cut a lemon wedge and sprayed the sour juice over the fried fish. I wistfully ate it wondering if it tasted the same. Did I dredge enough flour off the mackerel? Was the oil too hot? Was the fish crispy enough? Do you have his skills in the kitchen?
I didn’t sit down at the table to eat it. Instead, I hovered over my counter eating hot bursts of fish in my mouth. I ate it all but didn’t feel satisfied. I’m still not sure if my dissatisfaction came from my hand at the recipe or the dissatisfaction of cooking this dish alone with no steward to guide me. Either way, I won’t be sharing the recipe quite yet until I feel like I’ve mastered it in my own way which is tinkering alone in the kitchen with music playing in the background, my dog at my feet, and my hands transforming food into pure love.
ALL SUBSCRIBERS: I absolutely love the chats I’m having on the BURNT podcast which is currently for paid subscribers. The podcast is where we talk about mess-ups, kitchen failures, and advice on keeping it all together. I would LOVE to hear some of your BURNT stories! Tell me about the time you served something completely inedible to your dinner party or the time that you almost burned the house down making popcorn. Everyone has a story to share! The more details the better. If you have a BURNT story and a cool piece of kitchen advice that either someone told you or you stumbled upon I’d love to hear it.
Feel free to email me, text your story, or leave a very descriptive voicemail with your name to this number: 609-732-2236. Your BURNT story may perhaps make its way to the newsletter!
Cook. Eat. Repeat.
Natalie 💗✨