Cross my heart and hope to die

He was a chef who literally worked up from dishwasher to globally renowned “food personality”.  He had worked just about every position in a kitchen. He never turned his nose up at street food and drank beer from a plastic bag because that’s how the locals did it. In an important-to-me move, he insisted his show go to the Azores when he learned while visiting Portugal that the food labeled “Portuguese” in Rhode Island and Massachusetts has its roots in Azorean cuisine rather than mainland Portuguese cuisine.

He gave a shit, not just about the food, but about the people who produced it. We bandy about the term “ethically sourced” like it’s nothing but a marketing buzzword. But Bourdain gave enough of a shit that he, Eric Ripert, and Christopher Curtin teamed up to make a chocolate bar with chocolate sourced from a single farm in Peru. But he, Ripert, and Curtin didn’t stop there. Bourdain cooked for the farmer’s family when he was there with one of his shows. He introduced the farmer’s daughter to some of the most famous chefs in Lima. He, Ripert, and Curtin, also made it a point to get rice stoves (stoves that burn rice hulls instead of wood and are not as toxic as wood) put into the homes of farming families in Peru.

There’s a prayer I’m reminded of, a modified version of a Christian prayer that’s used by my pagan church. “[Deity], we ask you to bless this food we are about to eat. We ask you to bless the hands that made it, both seen and unseen. We ask you to bless the hands that grew it and harvested it, both seen and unseen. We thank you for these gifts. So mote it be.”

“ “[DEADNAME] Again" “ 

However. Often when getting food after marching practice, or on our scant breaks, I’d drive my friends to burger king or little ceasers or starbucks or whatever, and sometimes not all of my friends could afford the food they wanted. And well…food is food. I have a big appetite, and as long as I didn’t go crazy overboard and order catering for the whole band, a few extra burgers and shakes wouldn’t stand out on a monthly bill. So I bought my friends food. 

I did this for several months, and sometime during that came out to my parents. They both thought it was a phase, and that I would grow out of it. Since they’re not terrible people their approach to me having ‘a boy phase’ was to let me do my thing and wait for me to change my mind. I didn’t change my mind, and eventually they understood that, but that’s a whole other post. The point is my dad didn’t discourage me from transitioning, but avoided talking about it with me. He stopped calling me his daughter, but replaced it with child rather than son, that kind of thing.  

But back to the credit card. Eventually I started feeling guilty. TECHNICALLY I was obeying the rule ‘food and gas only’, but I knew I was bending it. I nervously admitted to him one day that sometimes…on occasion…once in a while… I’d buy a friend food. I waited solemnly for his judgement. He walked over to me, put his hands on my shoulders, looked into my eyes sternly and said,

“Zackary, we are Italian. If you let your friends go hungry….” (and here he decided to shake me just for a little emphasis) “I will disown you.” 

One (1) mosquitoe: 👁👄👁

To all my black followers and friends, stay safe.

Also, I would like to add that black lives have always mattered, will always matter.

It’s awful that we even have to say that because it should be a given. However, we need to say it loud and clear for the racists.