Please Help!

I am involved in many projects ranging from The S. Kitchen to Youth Worker Collective to OutLook Theater Project all of which operate on a shoe-string budget of $0. I am reaching out to YOU for support.

What's needed?
A FREE space for an OutLook Theater workshop exploring the intersections of faith, spirituality, and religion and sexua...l and gender identity on Saturday, April 2 from 1pm to 3pm.

Fruits, veggies, canned goods, etc. to make 3 dishes for The S. Kitchen presents...Seeding Reflection, Cultivating Intention.

If you would like to donate, please leave a comment or email me at jason@the-s-kitchen.org.

Thanks for taking the time to watch this and for donating!

To cuisine, conversation and camaraderie,
Jason

Conversation: The S. Kitchen presents...Seeding Reflection, Cultivating Intention PODCAST

Jason Wyman, Catalyst of The S. Kitchen, recently interviewed Suvanna Cullen and Singhashri Gazmuri from the San Francisco Buddhist Center on Tuesday, March 15th. The interview was a part of The S. Kitchen presents...Seeding Reflection, Cultivating Intention. A shared potluck meal with Singhashri and Suvanna will be on Sunday, March 27th at 7pm. To RSVP and learn more, please visit the Facebook Event Event page or the Socializr page.

If you would like to learn more about the San Francisco Buddhist Center, please visit their website.

Listen to internet radio with theskitchen on Blog Talk Radio

And please help us spread the word by retweeting this podcast, sharing it on Facebook, and telling your friends and family about the importance of seeding reflection, cultivating intention.

Conversation: Lost and Still

I was lost. It was as if I was floating in space with nothing tangible around me and the sun, moon, and earth blotted out by my inability to comprehend. I normally find comfort there. I like the feeling of non-attachment and distance. It helps me see and experience things others miss. This week, I just wanted to sink back to earth and feel solid rock. I'm tired.

Nothing extraordinary happened. Nothing inconsequential happened. Nothing really happened at all. That's what started it all: I didn't want nothing. At least at that moment. I just wanted a little motivation and some inspiration. I just wanted movement.

The trouble with waiting is that it truly is a tragic beast. Once the seed of want roots itself it is hard to see what is right in front of you. I had inspiration everywhere. It was there in the films by women I found this week that told tales of gratitude and dalliances with sheep and beetles eating hearts. It was on the bus in an overheard conversation of amazing boundaries being drawn by a young woman with her ex-lover. It was in a speech by Chrystos about shedding colonizer thinking, not being boxed by identity, and strength in struggle that is not self-less. It was everywhere around me all the time.

So too was motivation. Resumes were submitted. Meetings were attended. Conversations were had.

Still I was lost. Still I felt like my apartment looked: disheveled by contractors who were putting in a new window and drywall thanks to a leaking ceiling and wall. I just wanted to put it all back and ignore the water on the floor. At least on the surface it would look tidy.

This lostness crept into my cooking all week long. I made disastrous meals that didn't satiate taste. I tried my hand at an apple crumble and misplaced my mind when I poured in an extra half cup of milk. I still threw it in the oven hoping for a miracle. I took one bite, and no miracle was found.

On and on the week pressed as I, still lost, felt knots in my back and anxiety on my heart. I stressed over the meal to be shared on Sunday. I still hadn't found my inspiration and without it the food would never transform into cuisine.

Then, I stopped. I stopped looking and decided to observe.

I found myself in North Beach at a meeting with a coaching client. He sat across from me with the tools I brought between us. I shared youth development strategies, approaches and philosophies. I was doing my "job" not my role. As I was finishing up, I asked one final question, "Anything else?" He asked for help on one particular challenge. I was immediately unstuck. I listened and reflected and listened some more. Only then did I share a possible solution.

Our 30 minute session turned out to be an hour and a half. Not one of those moments was missed. Not once did I feel lost.

I set out from North Beach and meandered through Chinatown. A growing hunger begged feeding, but not any meal would do. I peeked in restaurants and perused menus. I had a vague feeling for noodles, but I didn't want chow mein.

I found myself peering in the window of Hon's Wun-tun House Ltd. of California. Not a single white person inside, I opened the door and took a seat at the counter. I placed an order for Sichuan noodles; five minutes later it came. I slurped up the fine angel hair thing noodles with the spicy shredded pork on top. As I looked up, I saw it: homemade wide noodles -- $2.50/pound.

It was exactly what I was searching for. I bought three pounds.

I'm now sitting in Portsmouth Square with Cantonese being spoken all around me and my fingers numbing. A tour group is in front of me trying dim sum treats. I am still except for the movement of my hand scribbling across this page. I am at peace.

I know I will find myself lost again. I know anxiety will course through veins and muscles will knot. I know that I cannot silence all of my wants. I just need to remember this moment -- the one where I became still.

I have two more days until my shared meal. Keeping still while wandering is how I'm going to make it there. I know magic will happen if I let go. And it will be called braised garlic greens with homemade noodles.

Conversation: BAN6 at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts

This is a comment response to The S. Kitchen Fan Erica P's post on The Eatable Life about the BAN6 Conversation at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts which happened on Saturday, February 19 from 1pm to 4pm. The guest speakers were Novella Carpenter, Leif Hedendal, and Bryant Terry. To get a detailed and accurate summary of the event, please head on over to The Eatable Life.



This is a commentary and reflection.

***
Thanks for this fab review of the event. I liked all three of the speakers as well. I think they all brought in different perspectives of the food movement and industry. I especially liked how Novella talked about her love of animals, and they are dinner. I found her description of the ritual of slaughter fascinating, and have been grappling with what it means to me as a meat eater.

I had a much harder time with the format.

To me, the crux of the conversation was the intersection of food, art, and social justice. Having come to food and art through the vocation of youth development and educational reform, I have a really hard time when "conversations" about these topics don't also embrace a food, art, and social justice approach. The format of the event was constructed using a classical educational approach. There were "experts", the panelists and curator, and "learners", the audience. These two positions need to be filled in a classical educational approach because the role of the expert is to impart their learning on the learner. The learner has little to no role in the area of expertise.

At this event, there was even a hierarchy in what role each particular audience member played. Throughout the event, the curator/moderator asked questions to "the artists". While I was in the audience and listening to the conversation and being asked questions, I took comfort in being called an artist. It made me feel like there was a level of importance in being an audience member, that I may in fact be an artist. I felt like they were also trying a new approach to learning, one that, while not completely embracing a social justice or people's educational approach, was at least moving in that direction.

After the event, I stuck around to talk to Bryant. I noticed as the chairs were being picked up that there were technically two classifications of audience members: ones whose seats read "Artist" and ones whose seats were blank. I haven't felt that dissed in a very long time, and it made me question the entirety of the event. Was this event really *for* me?

It also shed light onto a weird interaction between me and the moderator. During the discussion, I spoke and shared my story of how I came to both food and art. I have mostly worked in low-income, historically marginalized communities. Within those communities, art and food are not a superfluous question. They are questions of both survival and engagement. (I would argue engagement is survival, but that's another debate.) They ONLY way I got young people to the table and understanding anything was through food and art. Parents only came to meetings where food was present. I could only meet with teachers if I brought pizza. And that is solely on the most surface of levels.

The weird interaction came after I stated, "Take a look around and see who is here and who isn't here." (Or something incredibly similar.) I know I did not see a single person under mid-twenties. I can make a fairly educated guess that most had some (if not a lot) of post-secondary education. (I myself flunked out, so I might not be making that educated of a guess.) And all were, while maybe not rich per se, at least either upper-lower or lower-middle class and above. I couldn't imagine a single youth I worked with in my 15+ years of youth development work ever showing up to the event.

My comment was dismissed by the curator, and he quickly moved on. I wondered after I saw the chairs with the "Artist" label on them if part of that reaction was due to the fact that I was not labeled an "artist". I also wondered if I struck a nerve on a topic that the museum has been grappling with.

I know a museum is for a very particular kind of person, one that can navigate it and understand it, which requires a certain level of education. It is also an institution. But as we move forward with the conversation of the intersections of food, art, commodification, and social justice we cannot forget that there is a LARGE segment of the population MISSING from the dialogue. Those people are the same ones that will be the most impacted by any decision (political, aesthetic, cultural, etc.) in these arenas. I think we, the collective we that includes me, can do better at finding ways to engage them. And that starts with some great food and excellent art.

Cuisine: Banana Chocolate Brownie Bread

It's been rainy and dreary here in San Francisco, and I love it. Nothing makes my heart melt quite like the damp winter we get here. It is far better than the below zero temperatures of my Minnesota upbringing, especially the temperatures of this past winter. I love reading books, plotting with comrades and baking warm sweet treats in winter.

This past Tuesday was a particularly dreary day, so I set out on a little adventure: find rotten bananas. I just had to make banana bread.

I found some and brought them home. I was all ready to make a traditional banana bread when suddenly, I got an urge to throw in cocoa powder. Then, I ransacked my cupboards and found half a bag of mini chocolate chips. In they went, and then this banana chocolate brownie bread was baked.

It was enjoyed that evening with a lovely cup of chai tea.

***
You will need:
3 cups flour
2 tsp baking powder
3/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 cup cocoa powder
5 ripe bananas
1/4 cup milk
2 1/4 tsp vanilla
1/2 cup butter
1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar
2 extra large eggs
1 cup mini chocolate chips

What to do:
Heat over to 350 degrees. Grease a 9 inch by 9 inch baking dish.

In a bowl, whisk flour, baking powder, salt, baking soda and cocoa powder together until thoroughly combined. In another bowl, mash bananas, milk and vanilla together. There should still be large chunks of banana remaining. In a stand mixer, cream butter and sugar over medium speed. Add the eggs one at a time until mixture is airy.

Add 1/2 the flour mixture to the butter mixture. Stir to blend. Add 1/2 the banana mixture. Stir to blend. Add 1/2 the flour mixture. Stir to blend. Add 1/2 the banana mixture and the chocolate chips. Stir to blend. Pour mixture into prepared baking dish.

Bake for about 1 hour. Cool on a wire rack for 15 minutes. Enjoy either warm or let cool overnight. Excellent with coffee and/or tea.