A different level

I've been back in Baltimore for a total of 5 days now and you guessed it - I'm so ridiculously happy that it's probably annoyingly gross to anyone who comes within aura-feeling distance. Sure, in Baltimore, I don't have air conditioning and sure it's muggy and mosquito-ridden in the city and sure the brakes on the car just went out because there's a brake-line leak and sure there's a lot of errands to be run...who cares?! I'm back to being myself with people I adore and I couldn't be any, goddamn, happier. My effusive spouts of contentment are perhaps beginning to wear on the nerves of those around me so I should probably tone it down. 

And so, to rain on my own parade, I'll remind myself that I'm leaving Baltimore permanently next week (on Thursday)...and that's going to be very, very, hard...on a sucks-so-bad-it-hurts-to-get-out-of-bed-level. On a if-a-fucking-banana-cream-pie-hits-me-in-the-face-I-won't-even-react-because-I'll-probably-be-dead-inside level. On a I'm-hoping-I'll-get-attacked-by-a-bear-and-while-wrestling-with-it-we'll-fall-off-a-cliff-together-into-eternity kind of level (compliments of a friend). There are some pretty bad levels out there but really, no one can fault an accidental or bystander death.

All of this is probably a reminder that change is good...supposedly. When I graduated from college, one of things that kept me in Baltimore, besides my Masters degree program, was the feeling that I had some unfinished business in this city. I finished that business and since then, I've always wondered if I'm wasting something by staying here. I can't put my finger on what that something is, but the thought is certainly there and ever-present, though oscillatory. Last summer, when July came around, I certainly remember the souring of some feelings and a desire to flee my "home," and just a few weeks ago, I felt so weary and angry that I was sure that the city was rejecting me. 

I've more than likely overstayed my welcome. There's a few sayings in life that I try to follow, the first one being "It's better to be pleasantly surprised than consistently disappointed" and the second, "Minimize your regrets." Somewhere farther down the list is to "Don't try to replicate past joys," and there might be more substantiated truth to that statement than I would like to admit. While watching the Netflix documentary (Chef's Table), one of the more extreme chefs, Francis Mallmann, said something along the lines of "all relationships must end or there is no self-growth, no progress." With no offense meant, he'll say goodbye to someone with whom he's been oh so close for the past few years and then never really converse with that person again, simply because in the end, it's better for both parties to separate and forge their own paths without the constraints of a relationship. "Don't cling onto things," his steely eyes seem to say from the dark, muted colors of the television screen. 

So, I guess I should stop clinging to Baltimore?

Granted, Francis Mallmann is the type of person who lives in the isolated, rough hills of Patagonia and who cooks with the fire from burning logs and doesn't have time for what we would call a traditional family life. He's someone who seems to have figured out what works best for him and while he seems wise with his rough-hewn values, admirable as he stokes the flames in his wood-burning stove for some tea...it's also very easy to realize that what works for him may not work for many other people.  I didn't grow up in Patagonia with his type of family, so does that make his life automatically inapplicable to mine? Yes, a huge part of me wants to run away from all the responsibilities I hold in my relationships right now, but what gives me to right to be so selfish? Is wanting to enjoy my life and do things my own way even possible in the society we've created for ourselves, from which I've spent more than 25 years trying to eke out my own identify?

"Chef's Table" does indeed showcase some exceedingly unique pioneers, and each chef seems to have a pretty amazing life...but after every episode, I'm still left to wonder "Did relationships, either with family or with lovers or with cities and communities, hold these people back from their full potential? Did their relationships suffer? If they are content, then why is there such a melancholy sadness running underneath the threads of the dialogue in this documentary series? Or is it just me, my jealousy, my uncertainty with what my happiness even really is that's infecting my perception of everything?" 

I'm rambling now so to sum it up, while I do agree that Mallmann is right, that many relationships are meant to end, I can't end them with the same certainty and stoicism with which he closes his relationships. It seems I have a long ways to go with that, as I am still stuck on the question of do I even have the choice to end this relationship, or is it all just damage control from here on in (long story short, I'm just talking about my family here)?  I suspect that I won't figure out the answer to that question anytime soon. Maybe I should take something else away from Mallmann, not on relationships, but on home. He loves Patagonia; it will forever be his home and no matter where he goes, he'll return to it. Perhaps rather than seeing my time in Baltimore as a relationship, I should see it just as what it's meant to be: home. 

Here's a simple recipe, courtesy of July 4th.  

Terikayi Chicken Drumsticks

serves 4 

10-12 chicken drumsticks

marinade

3/4 C granulated sugar

1 C dark soy sauce

1/2 C orange juice

1/2 C water

1/4 C ponzu lime*

1/4 C rice wine

4 TB sambal olek

*Note: I used Kikkoman Ponzu Lime but I'm sure you could substitute with 1/4 C ponzu + juice of 1 lime. 

In a large bowl, mix together all the ingredients for the marinade, until the sugar has completely dissolved. Place chicken drumsticks into a large Ziploc bag and pour marinade over the drumsticks. Zip the bag close, squeezing out as much air as possible, and press the drumsticks around in the bag, making sure that each one is coated. Leave in the refrigerator 1-2 nights, shifting the drumsticks around occasionally to make sure that the meat is evenly coated and everything is marinading evenly. 

Grill OR bake at 350 for 20 minutes, then flip and bake another 20 minutes. Flip again and turn up the heat to 375 degrees and bake for another 15 minutes, until the chicken is a dark brownish red in color. Remove from heat and let rest until ready to serve.