Has Atlanta Changed? ... And is that a bad thing?

It's been a while since I've posted to the www.CrossCountryChef.blogspot.com, only because returning to Atlanta has been--well, a trip!

Most of the people I reconnect with will tell me, "Atlanta has changed since you left," but I find that much of it has stayed the same.

Some things Never Change
If anything, I think the folks who say that most wish that it had changed more than it really has in my eyes. But truthfully, the Buckhead Betties are still out there.

Change can be a Good Thing
As for the food scene (which may be what folks are referring to, when they speak to me), I think that if Atlanta has changed "drastically" it's that it has finally embraced "ethnic" foods--and by ethnic I mean, anything other than "Chinatown-style" Chinese or Taco-stand-style Mexican (both of which hold their place in the food industry).

Change Can Add Spice To Your Life!
While shopping with my lovely one yesterday, I was excited to see the Atlanta Magazine give an Indian restaurant some colorful ink! For years, I have loved the interplay of powdery spices from the East and the subdued flavors of coconut milk, meats, salt and rice.

Born on a Caribbean island where traditional Indian foods, styles and techniques have adapted to what's available locally, my lovely one has always had a penchant for food that "tap dances on my tongue." That's not to say she likes her food to be too spicy (compared to some West Indian diners, her ability to "take the heat" keeps her out of the Caribbean kitchen), but it does mean that she enjoys dabbing into a "cool breeze" from a mint chutney when dining on a creamy curry, or the perfume of clove in a plain Basmati rice.

This type of experience is what makes me crazy for "tasting" and "grazing". To me, it's not about the food, it's about the experience, memories, thoughts and creativity that biting into a dish evokes. With my lovely one and me, the experience that spice evoked was love.

On our way to Gainesville, Tex.

But we ended up going as far as Sherman, Texas. It's always nice when you slog through and exceed your expectations. It was a scorcher! Very hot and very humid. It made waiting in the car quite difficult, but who's complaining! I don't think I would have covered this much ground cycling, so...

Here's a small clip.

What I love about my lovely one...

This trip has taught me that even though I am the one cycling, and losing X-amount of calories, the thought of hunger at any given moment would come without a question.

I ask my lovely one, "Are you hungry?"

And her lovely response is, "No, but you can continue to cycle. You have another five more miles to go."

Now, I have been known not to have patience, but how do you continue to go on cycling, starved, until she decides when it's time to eat?

Mind you, this is also an opportunity for both of us to eat together when clearly we're not cycling together.

I have often asked, "Love, would you like to do just one mile on the bike, and I'll drive?"

And the reply is: "This is your cycling journey, not mine."

Cyn's Thoughts on the Shoulder

People want answers. They're not satisfied with just questions. But sometimes, answers aren't anticipated or constructed, they're arrived at---come upon.

As I sit here on yet another car-length stretch of shoulder on I-40, I can't help but to notice how uncomfortably sticky and dirty my hands are. How my rear is hot in its jeans, how my back aches...

I'm testing my patience. That's what's happening to me---the queen of patience having her patience tested. Like she has to prove something to sombody, probably herself---since she has to maintain the title!

Who'd have thought? I'm squeezed in my chair, legs pressed up against the steering wheel. Waiting.

Patiently.

But there's this disturbance in my thoughts. Something that wants me to do, rather than to wait.

(Here's a funny video I forgot I recorded while waiting for Luna in the Mojave desert! Ha!)



I tried calling my brother and my dad. Something to pass the time. Conveniently, neither of them were there to hear what patient waiting really sounds like... boredom.

I admit it. Today, I'm bored. Thank goodness for NPR! (And yet, one can only get so smart in one day.)

Much of my day is spent looking through the rear-view mirror to see a black speck in the distance.

What are we doing?

What are we headed into?

Why are we doing this again?

My ire swells a little when I realize how hot it is, what time it is, how much my butt aches.

And then I see the black speck.

Maybe he's hungrey. Or maybe he wants to quit---for today, at least. I could handle that. I'm bored.