Discovery
Emily and I spent Father’s day with her family perusing around a used bookstore, and not just any used bookstore. The kind of bookstore where you must be careful where you walk, and keep your arms in tight, lest you knock over piles of books. I was not successful at this, as simply brushing one stack of books created a domino effect with the nearby stacks of books. And trying to fix that stack inevitably knocked over another stack. Thankfully, the owner was all too familiar with the commotion coming from my corner of the shop, and I did not get a talking-to. Every ledge, every nook, every spare inch on floor is covered with stacks of books, and only loosely organized or categorized. One block away, there is a very well-known bookstore that gets plenty of publicity, is centrally located on the main street, and is very organized. The aisles are clear, the signage is prominent, and the books are categorized, new, and neatly facing outward. And I find it terribly sterile, and even a bit boring. The books are exactly where you would expect them to be, the titles are about the same. I can easily find exactly the book I’m looking for, but it’s unlikely I’ll stumble upon an even better book that I wasn’t looking for. A book I wish existed for my little niche of hobbies, but didn’t know someone else had that hobby too, and enough to bring it to print. Often, the joy and connection we have with something has less to do with the actual content or substance, and more to do with the way we discovered the thing.
My wife and I have strong ties to London through family and friends. Emily did her master’s program in London, and my family lived in Manchester for 4 years while my dad got his PhD, so we make it back over the pond to visit as often as we can. The streets of London are perfectly suited to exploring via bicycle, because there is no grid system, it’s mostly flat, and it’s very densely populated. The density allows for many little cities within the cities, where the culture and feel of the place changes every few blocks. This increases the ratio of discovery, as you never know what’s around the next corner, and the streets aren’t laid out in an “expected” formation. There is no point of reference like a mountain or an ocean to keep you oriented, the streets are straight, and the buildings are tall enough to block your view of the one defining feature: the Thames River. But even that is not straight, so it will easily leave you disoriented. Because of this, two of my favorite spots to visit are special to me purely because of how I discovered them. One day, I was riding my Santander bike around London, and I had not looked up where I was nor where to go. I just followed the flow of the streets and what looked interesting up ahead. The worst thing that could happen is I return my bike to the nearest Tube station and find my train back home. After riding for awhile, I stumbled across an amazing outdoor market. A quasi-European Pike Place Market, but with less Starbucks. Amazing food stalls, fresh produce, all the international treats you could ask for. I always return there. Later on, I discovered this incredible collection of little pedestrian streets that all fed into a central hub, filled with food courts, tea shops, alleyways, and little shops you’d never find anywhere else. There was character, there was a sense of place, and there was uniqueness, there was a reason to be there. I felt like I found a little secret gathering place, tucked in the alleyways, away from the hustle and bustle of 9 million people right nearby.
Some of my most memorable foods, recipes and meals and follow this pattern of discovery, as I’m sure yours do too when you stop and think about them. Emily and I had banana cream pie at our wedding because my grandma made them important to me. We have tea and chocolate at night because my parents did. My favorite meal is Dutch pancakes because my dad made them for us on our birthdays. I’m always on the lookout for a Chinese porn bun because as a kid, my aunt and uncle lived 4 hours away, and we met them in the middle at a Chinese restaurant. My grandpa made nasi goreng because the Dutch adopted it from Indonesia, and he made it for my dad, and then my dad made it for us. There are foods that I think I’m sure I would not like, nor even try, if I had discovered them by myself, or in different circumstances, or with different people (or no people), or different times in my life. But some of my favorite foods are tied to the way I discovered them. This is encouraging to me because it infers that we have a certain amount of control over what we like to eat. We are not simply born with foods we like, and foods we don’t. Sometimes, we like foods because of how they came to us, not because of what they are.
Some of you already experience this “discovery” when you open your Box of Good without looking at the week’s menu beforehand. Some of you are scared to death when you get an item in your box that you don’t know what it is, why it is, or where it should go. I would only encourage you to create a memory around it; ask a friend for a recipe, have neighbors over and try out your new dish, ask us for some tips and tricks, or just venture out on your own and discover how it works best for you. You just might discover that you like it.
~ Tobin Fekkes