a super big boy combo, and fifty-six years

alicia and i are utterly blessed to have been borne into the families that surround us. nearly two weeks ago she wrote a candid and emotional piece in memory of her grandfather, a man who i fast learned was the very thing i should strive to be in her life. he provided her with unmatched love. security. he was her rock. and the way she speaks of both he and her grandmother, the admiration of their marriage, is a thing so familiar, a thing i hold for my own grandparents as well.

only days ago my mom's parents celebrated the anniversary of their marriage. the story of how they met—a blind date at the original bob's big boy—epitomizes the core of their union. the commitment to follow through, beyond the nerves of a a set-up like a blind date, is at the heart of their remorse for not attending my recent graduation from emerson college. it was the first graduation of any kind, of all of their grandchildren, that they'd missed. and that alone, their remorse, meant more to me than having them present for the silly ceremony.

and today marks the anniversary of the wedding of my dad's parents.

six years ago this weekend all ten of their kids and spouses, and twenty-five grandchildren, were at lake george to celebrate their fiftieth anniversary. today makes fifty-six. it's a large family, and it's remarkable how well the family gets along. you'd think anytime the families gather it was a reunion of college friends, and not brothers and sisters. as a child, i looked to my nana and papa as though they were saints. they held this mythical sort of air in my mind, and it was unheard of in my subconscious to ever even dream of crossing either of them. i was no angel as a kid, but in their presence, i at least attempted—though not always successfully—to be nothing less. it's a testament to their union, and again, the endless love they've showered upon their family.

i cringe at cliché and sentiment, and i know how deeply i've delved in both here, but when it comes to family, you'll always get the underbelly of my coarse core. it's because of family that this blog exists—and is the reason i decided upon the strange and obscure title that people mistake to have to do with bellybuttons—and to this point, it's my family that have proven to be my most loyal readers. thanks for that, and with a guilty and unsatisfied conscience, i apologize for not better expressing my gratitude and appreciation for all that you've provided for me.

funnin' with food and wonder woman

i can't say i always heed to this, but you shouldn't be cooking food if you are taking it too seriously. there needs to be an appreciation for what you're doing. an understanding of how essential the act of eating is, and that cooking, as it has evolved, is a great reflection on the human mind. how man came to utilize heat as a means to prepare his food—and to then further manipulate the elements so as cooking became a science, and so too an art—is so tragically overlooked, despite it being so obvious a study to man's consciousness, or what fiction writers constantly seek to capture, the human condition.

so a couple weeks back, when i fired up the charcoals on the grill early in the afternoon to start charring vegetables, only to have the coals die by the time i needed to cook my fish and steaks, and so then cleaned the thing out only to build a new mound of coals, this time with my dad holding the lighter fluid, distracted and talking to alicia's stepfather, dousing the coals with ounce after ounce of the stuff in mid-conversation—which is when i bit my tongue so as not to cause a tiff between the two of us, despite knowing the label says to add only one and a half ounces per pound of coals, because he is my dad after all, and he knows best—and i slowly and carefully touched a match to the bottom of the pile like i always do, i was tested.

up until a couple years ago, i was still afraid to turn on a gas stove. the thought of the thing blowing up in my face, well, yeah. so when, before i knew what was happening, a fireball ballooned from the coals and snapped up my arm and toward my face, i thought i had it pretty bad. it's funny how trauma works, because in retrospect, i saw that fireball erupt in absolute slow motion. at first that kid in me came out and was simply awestruck, thinking something like a hushed, woah. but that didn't last long, and i snapped my arm away, shaking it over and over and over like it'd been swallowed by flames, though i wasn't on fire, and everyone else wasn't sure if they should be laughing or worried. because it was funny. and i deserved it, because up to then, i'd been bummed about having to restart my fire, and that's just not what it's about. so i singed a few dozen arm hairs? at least i snapped to.

and when alicia had an interview for a teaching position a couple days later, it was through food that i went about doing what i could to ease her nerves—though it's not like she ever needs it. sometimes i think i'm dating wonder woman. what the girl pulls off is inhuman. so as often as i can, i try and let her know this.

she was in a rush that morning, printing this and editing that on her resume, and needed breakfast. so i went to olivia's and picked up a couple wallaby yogurts, which she loves, and a pluot, which is a hybrid of an apricot and a plum, and some granola. in the bowl above, the granola sits at the bottom, sliced pluots fanned on top of that, which are hidden, and then the yogurt, which i had fun with and dotted with blueberries and a drizzle of honey and a small mound of more granola. you can see that plainly. it was easy, but a different way of making fruit and granola than the usual mix and match and pile it on that we eat every other day. my point is, i had fun with it. and it was the perfect way to send her off. the thing took thought, and she was touched that i'd taken that extra effort, which by nature calmed her nerves and i think helped set her up for an interview that was, despite her modesty, a cakewalk.

sure, take food seriously if that's your thing. but my whole point is when you have fun with the food, there's something different going on than what you get with the whole pretense of progressive, nouveau cuisine. and considering how far we've come since living in caves and hunting with spears, i'll take that any day.