Italian’s Do It Better

Heyy. *in Wendy Williams voice* How you doin?

So, here I am. There you are. We are going to talk about cooking.

I used to want to be a chef when I was a child. (A baker if we are getting all technical about it. ) Through a series of events though, I changed my mind. I have never really thought about the fact until recently. Out of the blue I felt a rekindling for the fun of cooking. There is an emotion you get when you cook something good for someone, and they enjoy it. It’s one of those warm feelings that help you remember why you get up in the morning. So satisfying. 

I recalled this because I recently got the nice urge to be nice while staying with my two brothers in their apartment. I told them I would try and cook like gourmet meals every night. Well, due to another series of unfortunate events, that turned into only one night of the week. What I did cook though, was fabulous. I served the children a nice Creamy Tuscan Chicken Roll on a bed of spinach with cheesy fettuccine on the side and a couple meat calzones. It was an Italian’s wet dream, and they loved it.

This meal was no joke though. It was actually very hard to make for me, only a novice to intermediate chef. 

The Creamy Tuscan Chicken Roll. This one took the most time and was the one I was also most worried of preparing because the process involved never performed procedures. At least, by me. I had to split the raw chicken breasts in half and then smash it like there was no tomorrow. My brothers didn’t have a rolling pin or meat tenderizer though. Instead, I had to use what we had in the toolbox, a hammer. Then, I would put sun dried tomatoes and spinach and other things on that and roll it up tightly. The fridge cooled them down which helped solidify the rolls.

The sauce that went on top of them was not hard to make, at all, I just never had made a sauce that dealt with like flour and heavy cream and stuff like that. It paired nicely, and once that was done, I started frying the chicken rolls.

This part was what I was scared for because we don’t really fry in my house, so I’m not used to it. I knew then, this was gonna be a trip. And it was. I first off made a genuine mess trying to get a hammered chicken roll in the egg wash, flour, and breadcrumbs. Chile…anyways. Once I set them in the oil, I realized that the oil might’ve been too hot. The outside was cooking way quicker than the inside. I didn’t wanna serve raw chicken and give the whole house food poisoning cause that’s not my place to be doin’ that.

What gives me the right? Ya know? 

Since I messed up, I had to stick them in the oven until they reached the correct temperature. 

The fettuccine was actually really easy. It came from a box. I just slapped some butter and milk in a pot and kept going with life. 

The calzones were not hard, but they took time. I had to make the dough, which would not stop sticking to my hands. Then, I had to put it in a bowl with some olive oil, and let it rest and grow. It was so sticky though, so I gave it a good bit of the oil. Maybe too much.  Yeah, with stuffing and wrapping those up my meal was complete.

It took me four hours to complete all the food. Obviously, if I knew what I was doing better it wouldn’t have taken so long. I definitely could’ve managed my time better with when to prepare what, so everything was done at close to the same time. I would say the food was not Gordon Ramsey level, but it was still pretty decent. Honestly though, it was still super fun. If you ever get the chance to cook for some folks. Go and serve it up! 

 

Let’s Get Vulnerable.

Vulnerability has never really been a strong suit of mine. It’s something about being so open and loud about the emotions I harbor that make my stomach turn. 

I feel the most vulnerable when I am writing. Writing allows me to release the words and expressions I dare not say out loud. Universe forbid that I ever say “I miss you” to someone. That’s more pride than it is vulnerability, but the two stand hand in hand for me.

Getting me to open up to you is basically getting me to say “I love and I trust you, take my heart now.” It’s like getting to the core of an artichoke or opening up one door just to find a locked safe. You may think you know so much about me, but you’ve really just scratched the surface.

I don’t like to think of myself as “complicated” or “hard to understand”. I just don’t allow everyone to pick at the complexities of my heart, mind and soul. That’s what being vulnerable feels like. It feels like you’re the main event at an open arena show. All eyes on you’re. You’re the star of the evening. NO THANK YOU!! I am just fine sitting backseat until I choose to drive. 

Being vulnerable is a choice. Vulnerability allows stable, healthy relationships. It helps to build character. I know that if I want to maintain certain relationships and friendships that I must allow vulnerability to pierce my heart and strain it in front of the ones I want to truly see me.

Let’s get vulnerable. Times not slowing down. We’re getting older and wiser. Don’t let a little vulnerability keep you hidden away from the truth that resides in you.

Until next time Friends,

A southern girl who wants to open up.

Life got you down Mary?

         Hey girl hey! This is my first blog ever so please bare with me.

Optimists. Pessimists. The world is full of them, and if you’re human then you are probably one of either. Full disclosure though: I am an optimist. Yes, I am the type of person who will try and turn every situation around for the positive. Some, who are negative minded, may get annoyed by this behavior. I respect their viewpoint on how they choose to perceive life, but why?

I have always heard that it is not about what happens to you in life, but how you react to what happens. I heard that and said mama preach!

I would like to share this poem which goes of a similar idea in perspective on the world around us. First, read the poem from top to bottom. Then, I read it from bottom to top and see what happens.

    “Worst Day Ever?” By Chanie Gorkin

Today was the absolute worst day ever
And don’t try to convince me that
There’s something good in every day
Because, when you take a closer look,
This world is a pretty evil place.
Even if
Some goodness does shine through once in a while
Satisfaction and happiness don’t last.
And it’s not true that
It’s all in the mind and heart
Because
True happiness can be obtained
Only if one’s surroundings are good
It’s not true that good exists
I’m sure you can agree that
The reality
Creates
My attitude
It’s all beyond my control
And you’ll never in a million years hear me say that
Today was a good day

Crazy right? It was so astonishing to me the fact that such a feat was accomplished of the two sided viewpoint. Reading the poem from top to bottom we see a grim outlook on the day, but reverse it and you an optimistic stance on the day. It could even be used as a metaphor. For example, if life has just got you in the blues or a situation gets rough and tough, find ways to flip the script. Focus more on the positives that are going on within your experience. 

It is not easy to always find good though. I mean emotions never should be suppressed or neglected because of fear. We have all been there, with some Lana Del Rey blaring and runny mascara, and you have not lived if you do not know what I mean.

*raises hand* Guilty.

I am not ashamed to admit it. If someone constantly neglects the negative emotions they are deeply feeling it can lead your body and mind to attempt to cope with some pretty messed up habits. Again, guilty.  

Going back to the topic however, it is how you overcome and bounce back from these bad experiences that make you a stronger human being. A pessimist usually may not bounce back, and can get stuck on the struggle bus.

Full transparency, this was totally me my first week at the Mississippi School of the Arts. This place is so so so different from my old school on so many levels. From the people, to the technology, to even the stairs, I was not prepared for what was to come. (Nor was my stamina for the stairs, but that is another story for another day) Anyway, I had to shift my mindset and drop many of the high school stereotypes that had been instilled in me. If I wouldn’t have done this I might still be on the mess express. I remember Oprah once talked about a great way to change the way you think. She said to write down five simple things you were appreciative of from that day. It could be so simple from just someone opening up a door for you. 

If you struggle with pessimistic ways clogging your mental space try this exercise. I want to end this post with a little assignment from Oprah. Feel free to call-in or comment below and keep me up with how it’s going. 

♥ Till next time kitty girls!

     

 

 

 

 

First

This is my first post on this blog. There’s a lot of expectations for doing something the “first time,” whether by someone else or yourself.

Part of me is worried; I feel like I’ll start thinking too much and then I’ll never have this post done.

But another part of me is just telling me to go for it- to cast all my worries and doubts and anxiety aside and just do what I need to do.

Every day can be a struggle for someone like me. I care too much, yet I care too little as well. Does that make any sort of sense? I don’t really know.

But I’ve gotten off track. Like I always do with these kinds of things. I end up getting sidetracked by a tangent, and then I don’t remember what I was talking about in the first place. Right now is a prime example, really. I started off by voicing my concerns for having too much expectations for myself.

I feel like I think myself in circles. If I start thinking about my anxiety, I start focusing on it, and that just makes me more anxious. My expectations are too high for myself, I suppose. Or maybe they’re not high enough.

I could talk about all the times that I’ve had to things for the first time, or talk about all the times I’ve had too high expectations for myself; but I would just be distracting myself, and those who are reading this.

I don’t know.

I just want to remind myself that it’s okay to be anxious about doing something for the first time. That everyone feels this kind of anxiety at one point or another- that every person on the earth has had expectations put on themselves by others, or even themselves, like I do so often. I tell myself these things all the time, but I have a hard time listening to myself, even on my “good” days when my anxiety has thankfully left me alone for a little while.

I feel like I don’t listen to myself way too much for my own good. I tell myself, “Hey, you need to get up and go do things that are important,” but I usually end up ignoring it and then I’m rushing to go out the door in the morning. Maybe that’s the root of my anxiety. Maybe it’s just because I have a hard time doing things that are healthy for me to do. Maybe it’s all because I can’t just tell myself to not worry so much.

Or maybe it’s something I couldn’t escape, even if I tried.