Ironically, it was my mother who helped me realize what Kansas City lacked. The night before I graduated, I was out to dinner with family and my mom asked me what I would miss about New York. A familiar anxious knot formed in my stomach. It was not a test anxiety knot, this knot was the same knot I had four and a half years earlier at 3am while I was walking to the car to drive to the airport to move to New York. In that moment, I fully realized that I was moving half way across the country away from everything I had ever known. The same feelings arose in the reverse situation. That dose of realtiy clearly outlined what I was leaving behind: ethnic neighborhoods.
Having many cultures living so close together makes New York City the embodiment of America's "melting pot." As a chef, that translates into ingredients. The large assortment of unique ingredients easily available to me would soon be reduced to a grocery store designed to cater to a large population of meat and potato eaters.
Don't get me wrong, six months into Northeast living and rich culinary school food, I was craving some good ol' homestyle meat and potatoes! However, being a foodie, I like to have options. I can't travel down to a Chinatown and pick up fresh bamboo shoots for authentic Chinese in Kansas City. I mourned my loss of readily available diversity.
Two weeks after graduating, I don't feel at home, but I don't feel like a visitor. I merely exist amongst the boxes and bags of stuff that I have not unpacked. I get to lounge around my mother's house in pijamas, I haven't shaved, (a rare treat, since I had to be clean shaven everyday at school) I haven't seen any old pals, my only required task for the day is to make dinner while my mother works and shops for Christmas presents.
Yesterday, I broke the lounging habit, spending the day with my brother and his girlfriend. We went to one of my favorite places, the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art. The museum boasts an immense collection of Asian art and artifacts. It is most famous for the giant shuttle cocks that scatter the lawn as if a badmitten playing giant with bad aim carelessly did not retreive them. Being overshadowed by a giant play thing is usually part of the thrill of seeing the shuttlecocks, but it was too chilly to justify a march across the lawn. I was thrilled to be inside and look out a window.
My favorite part of the museum is the Beaux-Arts architecture of the main building. Walking down hallways and passing through exibit rooms that never change and exploring new additions captured my attention and imagination like it did when I was 11.
At dusk we headed to the Country Club Plaza because my brother's girlfriend wanted to do some shopping. The Plaza is a couple of blocks of expensive mega chain stores set inside decorative Spanish style buildings to honor our sister city of Madrid, Spain. At Christmas, every line of each building is outlined in Christmas lights, enhancing the gingerbread effect. The lights,the wandering groups of carolers, horse drawn carriages, and bell ringers make the expirience wonderful. The Plaza embodies Christmas for me; it is steeped in Christmas tradition. Every year we drove down to the Plaza just to walk around, admire the lights, and window shop. By the time my brother, his girlfriend and I got in the car to drive home, it really felt like Christmas, but most importantly, it felt like home.
Here are a few pictures I snapped on our walk through the Plaza:
Lighted horse drawn carriages are a fun way to see the Plaza. |
The ice makes the fountains more dramatic. The Spanish flag flies in honor of our sister city, Madrid. |
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