When Food Isn't Love . . .

When Food Isn't Love...

Well. Y'all. Where to start?

Some of you know me as the Foodie Girl who writes about restaurants, loves to eat out and enjoys dining from high to low and commenting on it. I've certainly been spoiled by myself and the Sweet Man especially, among other boyfriends, as far as my dining habits of the last five or so years. My current work in the restaurant world has largely grown out of how I cottoned to being in such places, learning about what I like, what's new, what I might want to try or recommend to others . . .

Some of you, however, know me as the Girl Who Has Eating Issues (from way back, 20+ years now) and may also know that when I am busy or most particularly stressed - I don't eat. I always recognize and appreciate good food and well-plated dishes - from the simplest taco or burger to the fanciest dish of you-name-it - but I struggle to be able to take it in, for real.

Do I understand the physical need for calories? Of course. Do I want to be healthy? Yes. Do I remember what it was like to be anorexic (and a varsity athlete) from 14 to 17 and eat an apple a day, with my diet pills and Diet Coke? Oh, yes. Do I remember what it was like to be bulimic in spurts, interspersed with the anorexia or anorexic behavior? The cool tile of the linoleum floor is forever imprinted on my brain.

I think part of why I got into the "food" world (beyond the fact that I entertained clients back in the day when I was in insurance sales then started eating out on my own after my divorce) was to try to heal myself. And it's opened up all kinds of horizons and vistas - from my semester in Rome, which I picked because you just can't tell an Italian chef that you want sauce on the side or any such silly Buckhead girl thing, to my current appreciation for everything from sushi to frog legs and of course, really good cheese! - and I am grateful for the strides I have made.

Yet. 

I still revert to ancient habits. I have to make myself think of food in colors - What have I had today? What do I need? How many bites can I make myself take?

Here's the real issue: when I was 15 or even 25 - "getting skinny" delighted me. Heck, it's still nice. Any girl who doesn't admit to liking (or having) her skinny jeans is lying. But now it worries me - I'm not sure that at 5'8" I should be able to wear my size four Marc Jacob pants that I wore the year I got divorced (they aren't as loose as then but still . . .). Especially if it's because I'm on my feet six to fourteen hours a day at work and barely have (or find) time to eat . . . How do I better cope with stress, anger, grief, what have you? How do I get past my very long-standing coping mechanism of denial-and-skinny-jeans-are-good??

I don't really know. Down twenty or so pounds in recent months and struggling to find a balance - right now, food is not love. It should be - it is supposed to be. Food should be and represent nourishment, life and joy. 

It shouldn't be the enemy.

Food for thought.

Thinking about what's for dinner . . .

Yours,
Love Bites,

Carrie Neal

Taco Me, Baby

These days, I am an expert on most things Mexican. Fajitas? 'Ritas? Swirls? (Do you know what a Swirl is? If not, come see me at The Restaurant and find out - I bet you'll like it!) My current area of expertise, y'all.

The new job has been a most welcome and needed distraction from the state of my heart - isn't it funny how that axiom about one door closing and all that is so very true? - and despite the temporary set back of a broken bone in my foot, I've proven to be off to a successful start.

Here's what I've realized - I might have found a home, career-wise. Y'all know how much I enjoy food and eating at restaurants, and most of you know I've dabbled in working at a number of them over the last few years, but this is the first time I feel like this could really be my next career. There's something about this company that just - fits. Not since I started in the insurance business have I felt as comfortable in a setting and with the people as I do now. Working as a server is hard - and doing it wearing a button down dress shirt and tie (in summer!) is not so awesome - and most days I feel a bit like this . . .

After ten or so hours serving food, even the simplest taco looks like the Holy Grail!

But, something has clicked. They're looking at me for potential management and I'm already getting more and better shifts and working my way up through the different levels of server certification. I have felt at ease and confident more quickly here than at any other restaurant where I've worked - I just get it. There is a very specific way of doing things at The Restaurant and sure, sometimes that can be a little "much," but it makes sense to me. Management was great to me with my foot situation and got me back on as a hostess then onto the floor as soon as I was ready, and since it was only a few weeks into the job for me I really appreciated that. 

I actually do love Mexican food and our food is really great, so it makes it easy selling a good product. Some days are better than others - isn't that the case with any job, from CEO to bus boy? - and I'm certainly still learning the ropes. But from the folks I've clicked with at work (my Gay Boyfriends are fascinated with my current dating life as well as dying to know about my recent break up but I'm keeping them wondering for now about all of that . . .) to the fun I'm having with customers, even on our infamous Taco Tuesdays (Want to see a mad house? Come see us for $1 tacos every Tuesday and watch the melee!), I'm doing well and finding joy.

So on this much-needed day off (working 23 of 30 hours will do that to a girl!), I'm reflecting on what tacos et al could mean for me, more than just for sustenance. Here's looking forward to great things ahead - come see me soon!

Yours,
Love Bites,
Carrie Neal

Birthday Girl

Well, Happy Birthday to ME!

It's been awhile since I've posted and a lot - a LOT - has changed in Carrie Neal Land . . . 

Love Bites has meant a whole smorgasbord of different things over the last six weeks since I last checked in with y'all . . . from artichoke love to heartbreak, from daily cooking at home to working in a restaurant again, from last year's whirlwind birthday celebration in NYC to this year's - contemplative - festivities . . .

August 3 is always a Big Deal for this girl. Originally, it was like this . . .

Then later . . .

Ashy and me at the Ritz - how '80s are we here??

This . . .

17th Birthday Girl

Or this . . .

My 18th Birthday Surprise Party!

Or one year, this . . .

My parents at my 2002 wedding birthday!

And last year, it was this . . .

Ok, not really us, but it felt like that . . .

This . . .

The Real Us, on my whirlwind surprise trip to NYC.

And even this . . . 

 

He remembered the special place Dad took me on my 13th birthday trip to NYC . . .

So, yeah, my birthday has always been a big day in my world. This year, though, it's kind of rough. It's not the age - shh! if you know the number, you know, and if you don't, I'm not telling! - it's the situation. 

See, I am re-building - and re-cooking - my life. In the past six weeks, I've gotten a new job (more to follow about Mexican food very soon!), broken up with the Sweet Man, moved and dealt with death and other personal issues. So I've been busy.

And emotional. "Let them eat cake" is excellent advice from Marie Anotinette as far as certain people are concerned; "Now is the time for guts and guile" is another, for myself, courtesy of Elizabeth Taylor.

But this girl still makes sure there are fleurs on her birthday . . .

I will always make sure to get my own flowers if need be!

eggs for breakfast, and love to be appreciated. There may not be big parties or passionate kisses this year, but it's still my day.

Like I said, Happy Birthday to ME! Looking forward to the new year ahead.

Yours,

Love Bites,

Carrie Neal