The story behind the Mystery Meal…
Two years ago I lost my dog from old age, and she was someone that had been my rock for almost 6 years. It was devastating to say the least, but then I found out my dad had kidney failure and needed to go to dialysis every week. He raised my sister and myself on his own and being a single dad is really difficult when you have two dysfunctional sisters who needed more than just a little bit of guidance. If that wasn’t enough, he was 79 years old, and then diagnosed with colon cancer. We spent as much time as we could with him, and in knowing that he might leave us soon, it gave us the opportunity to share our last smiles, and speak our last words one on one. In December, a good friend of mine who was paralyzed in a car accident, passed away while I was at work. I broke up with my boyfriend of seven years and moved into an RV during this entire experience and never felt so alone, dirty, and defeated. My father died on the last day of January. February was dedicated to planning his 3 day funeral, all the while trying to find a new place to stay because the RV I was renting out was promised to a new occupant. By the end of February I had my own room and bathroom in an apartment in San Diego with my best friend and his girlfriend, who eventually is now, one of my best friends. In March of 2020, my bartending job, in which I was a faithful servant...like fucking cult status faithful (I didn’t call out when my father or dog passed away, I worked six days a week, I managed, I covered anybody’s shifts, I worked off the clock to accomplish tasks, I never had any weekends off, I also wasn't able to get the day off to go to my friend's funeral), told me to go home due to the COVID pandemic. I begged for hours but was not shown any remorse to my new unemployed situation. I tried working at Target, Postmates and applying to many other places but it just wasn’t enough to keep my apartment. I went on a severe drinking binge for about 2 weeks, as did everyone else who lost their jobs during this unfortunate disease induced recession. But how long can you feel bad for yourself? Too long, really.
One day when I was waking up at 2 o’ clock in the afternoon, hungover, I decided to make dinner for my roommates. I hadn’t cooked since I had broken up with my boyfriend the year prior. Even then, I usually cooked only on holidays, if that. I went to the nearest grocery store and decided to pick up anything on sale.Some steak, asparagus, and some corn. This simple, yet filling trifecta was the reignition for my love of cooking.
I began making meals almost every evening, and skipping most of the details, (I posted online, people wanted some, I said okay maybe), I decided to eventually create a cooking project. 10 people would pay me $10 for a meal and would have no idea what was in it. I was afraid of how people would react, and of course the judgement on the food they were getting. It was thankfully nothing short of a success, and since that day, my mystery meals were born, each with their own theme and with food I would hope would encourage people to venture out into trying something new.
Within this section of the blog is each mystery plate I’ve done, and the reasons as to why I chose certain foods. Cooking really helped me bring me from a really low place, and since then I’ve realized how universal it is in touching people, whether you’re getting someone Mcdonalds, or slaving over a hot stove to get dinner ready by 6- it’s an art, a hobby, and a necessity all wrapped up in a beautiful “Hi, have you eaten today?” bow. Once you share a meal with someone you realize that other people are going through their own challenges as well. Then, in that humble table does the weight of your worries feel less heavy. (Then of course that might be the dessert sugar high talking).
