My Activism Lies in Waffle Fries

When I was a little girl, I loved Campbell soups.  My favorite was cream of potato.  I would crumble saltine crackers in the bowl to soak up all that soupy comfort.  In those days, I could think of nothing that tasted better and more soothing to my appetite.  Then I started reading labels.  What at one time tasted so wonderful, now just tastes highly processed, salty and tinny to me.  I have to admit, though, I still long for that bowl of perfectly cubed potatoes, easy to make and easy to eat.

The soup did not change.  It is the same now with me in my fifties as it was when I was a pre-teen.  My perception changed and my palate developed.  Even though I sometimes long for the simplicity of opening a can for dinner, I don’t want to go back to my ignorance of nutrition, or give up the wonderful knowledge of the diversity of food that enriches my life now.  The potato soup I make today is so varied and complex and is still my favorite comfort food.

You may think this blog is another one of my “comfort food” blogs, but it is not.  In these past few weeks, I had my eyes opened again, and my heart broken a little.  My impression of a world that is kind and accepting was shattered.  I was astounded as I watched crowds of people flocking to Chick-Fil-A demonstrating against the sanctity of my marriage. 

This came on the heels of discovering that Oklahoma will not recognize my marriage with Paula and was followed by news of a man gunning down people in a Sikh Temple.  A few days later, Bryan Fischer of The American Family Association came out advocating an “Underground Railroad to deliver innocent children from same-sex households.”  You may recognize this group as one of the recipients of Chick-Fil-A corporate dollars.

I have always looked for the best in people and I avoid conflict like the plague.  I have never considered myself an activist.  I just live my life.  Period.  In the past few weeks, I have been trying to gather the shards of a shattered vision and put it back together.  I found myself not trusting anyone. 

I have not been able to write in this blog recently because all I could express was my anger, hurt and disappointment in the events of the past few weeks.  That’s not what I want this blog to be.  My vision for this blog is to bring people together through food.  For a little while, I wasn’t sure I could do that anymore.  Then a good friend of mine sat me down and gave me a “talkin’ too”.  She cautioned me to not let these events change my relationship with Paula.  She reminded me that the world is the same as it always has been and that my friends are the same they have always been.  She counseled me that maybe I care too much.  If I didn’t care so much, I wouldn’t be hurt so much.

I can’t help it, I am changed.  I cannot unsee what I have seen, nor unlearn what I have learned in the past few weeks.  I do know that I have a burning in my belly that wasn’t caused by one of my spicy dishes.  I have a churning in my gut that is only relieved by the expression of my emotions. 

I feel closer to Paula, my wife, than ever.  I feel more committed to our marriage than before.  Our marriage license is more than a piece of paper and no one, not the State of Oklahoma nor the crowds of Christians demonstrating against us can take that away from us.  I am working on embracing my new world view and realize the wealth of friends I have.  I have decided that caring is worth the hurting.  I do believe in love and goodness. Call me naïve, maybe, idealistic, certainly, but this is how I am. 

In the midst of all this turmoil came my 53^rd birthday.  We had a wonderful gathering of my closest friends and a joyous celebration.  My wife gave me a fun new culinary toy.  I have wanted a mandoline for quite some time and she bought me an excellent one.  And guess what?  It makes great waffle fries.  So my expression of activism lately has been perfecting pan grilled chicken and waffle fries.

I have never been a big fan of chicken breast, but this way it is flavorful, moist and healthy.  I use paper towels to pat the chicken as dry as possible.  Then I season it with salt, pepper and whatever other seasonings I have on hand.  I drizzle both sides with olive oil and then massage all of this into the meat.

In the meantime, my trusty cast iron skillet is heating over a high flame and the oven is set at 500 degrees.  When the skillet starts to smoke, I put the chicken in and leave it undisturbed for 4 minutes.  Then I turn it and put the skillet in the hot oven.  After 5 minutes, I remove the chicken from the pan and let it rest for at least 10 minutes.  The result is a perfectly cooked chicken, crispy on the outside and moist on the inside.

I easily assemble my new mandoline and use the large ruffle cut blade.  The trick here is to make a quarter turn with each cut.  Then I fry the waffle cut potato circles in 350 degree oil.  Serving my family healthy chicken sandwiches and crispy waffle fries made with intent and love makes me very happy!

I don’t want to go back to canned potato soup and I don’t want to go back to a rose colored glasses view of the world.  I will honor my God, myself, my marriage and my friends.  I will express my opinions in the most loving way I can.  I am witness to the birth of my own brand of activism, one waffle fry at a time.