lo bueno y lo malo

With four days left until our move to Spain, things are surprisingly not hectic. Probably the hardest part is living at my dad's and maintaining a level of constant cleanliness up to his standards. 

I'm half a week from living out a long-held desire, and the view from here is not what I expected.

 From the day I put in my notice at work, I marveled at how this could actually be the most bittersweet moment of my life. Because moving out of the country, and to País Vasco at that,

is in the top three things I could wish for me and my family. But telling J., my boss at the restaurant, that I was leaving made me realize that I had no desire to quit. It feels very strange to turn your back on something that is going better than you ever expected.

This particular journey started with being kinda bored taking care of an 11-month old and calling up a friend to get me a night in the kitchen of one of the best restaurants in town.   And here it ends, a lot of sweat, burns and blisters later,

with me working the line (thanks to the support and teaching of every single person in the kitchen), doing things I never thought I could. So the distance between the sad and the ecstatic is a huge, huge gap and leaves me somewhere in the middle, wondering what the heck I'm doing.



Take it day by day. That will be my motto for a while. And Sunday found us on the porch of my boss' house, having the most delicious and perfect meal.  The bad: I'm leaving, a job I live, writing gigs I love, friends I love and friends I was just starting to love. The good: Sometimes the friends you love that are particularly talented send you off with a demonstration of their gifts.

So we found ourselves dining on two whole grilled snapper, stuffed with herbs, shallots, and citrus, okra and tomatoes with curry, cabbage and aromatic rice. A simple yet elegant meal between friends, one that I will never forget.  Thanks, J.+M.


Marti Kilpatrick1 Comment