Food relaxes me. When I traveled for work, staying in motel/hotels for months on end – I couldn’t wait to go to a grocery store. I’d usually buy a variation of the same things. It didn’t matter where I was – Mississippi, Chicago, Oakland to name a few. As I write these places, I can remember some of the grocery stores and the spaces they inhabited. Why did I need to seek out organic produce or boxes of Bengali Spice tea? To be honest, I’m not exactly sure. I got sick of eating out and needed more control over my diet but there was something about buying the food that made me happy too.
When I started working at the farmer’s market it was the hustle that drew me in. The flurry of people ready to buy and buy fast that made time disappear. At the end of the day – we’d trade with other vendors. A loaf of bread for pesto or tomatoes. The best part was that money never appeared but I left with awesome stuff.
My grandma loved food. She wasn’t necessarily an amazing cook but I think it was the process she loved. One thing that stands out to me is her potato salad. She’d make a huge bowl – holding each cooked potato over the bowl as she sliced it into cubes. I have her Kitchen Aide mixer now. When I got it there was cookie dough crusted on the top part and I couldn’t bring myself to make anything with it for years because I didn’t want to knock it off.