On being home after a "big deal" ride

May 23, 2009

Hiya,

A quiet morning here in Asheville. Well, sort of. We had a big night last night with parties. Today we’re preparing some picnics and some lunches and some more parties, not to mention filling our deli case with local deliciousness. Some early risers are here having breakfast. Some lunch wanderers are beginning to find their way in. It looks like it might rain a bit later which will be fine. The gardens at home are filled with new seeds, new plants, new promise. Rain is a good thing.

I realized today that I have now been done with the bike ride for one whole month. Amazing. When I was on it, it felt like it would never end. In a good way. I loved the long days of nothing but riding. Now, home, I am putting my life back together, remembering things that are good here, imagining how to put that experience into this one. It’s a tricky thing, going away and doing something big and then coming home and trying to get re-centered.

One fun thing is to get up early and go to the markets. Ours are loaded with promise. Loaded with parts. Loaded with things made with love, grown with love. I’ve been wandering around talking to my friends who farm, inviting them to come here to share their thoughts on why they do what they do. I mean, farming is not the very most lucrative way to have a life. So what keeps them going? What fills them? I find this the most interesting thing – learning a bit more about these folks. We’ll have someone who is a biodynamic farmer. Someone who is a part-time farmer and part-time carpenter. Others will come too. I’m excited. June 11th. Come join us, won’t you?

I like having things to look forward to. I think this was a big mistake I made with this ride. I forgot that it would end and that I would have to find new things to do, new projects, new inspirations. Imagine forgetting that? Ah well. So now, filled with the promise in my garden beds and the bustling markets and even in my bee hives, I am letting it soak in and am rediscovering the inspiration. Our dinner is all about that.

I guess it has been okay to have been fairly open about all of this. A part of me scolds myself and says, “Oh get OVER it. You did a bike ride. Big deal. It’s done. You’re home. Enough already.” But I’ve also heard from enough people to know that this roughness is something that happens to others too and so perhaps by being open to this time I will learn more AND you might too. Or maybe it is just a good thing to know that you are not the only one experiencing a hard time. When I was recovering from my second round of cancer, twenty-one years ago next week, it was enormously helpful to me and to others to talk about what I was going through. Emotionally going through.

So there you have it. If you want to read more you can always visit the ride blog. I’m writing a bit more there. And as I move along through this time, I’m trying to be pretty open about it all. I do know it is nice to see a big blue pot filled with flowers. That I really know for sure.

I’ll be in touch next week.
Until then, come see me for some food made with love. Some “joy on a plate.”
Laurey

Home

Hi there,

May 9th. Saturday. Beautiful spring day. Kitchen’s a bustle. Life is good.

This is my last week as a 54 year old. It has been a spectacular year, all things considered. A year ago I was about to take myself on a one week bike ride on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, my first trip to that spot. I was not sure I could do the ride in any degree of comfort. I was coming off a heartbreak and needed some healing and some distance. The ride seemed like a good thing to do.

It was.

A week after I came home I got a note from the ride organizers mentioning a ride across the United States for this spring. I said, out loud, “I’d like to do that.” And Emily, my office manager, said, out loud. "I think you should.” So it began.

Here now, a year later, I have done it. Ridden my bicycle across the country. At the moment I have a tweaked back which makes it especially hard to believe that I did this ride. But I have a bunch of pictures to look at and a bunch of people to write to and a bunch of newspaper clippings and I KNOW it happened. Somehow it happened.

I think it is important to keep a vision, to keep a dream, to state things out loud. To write things down and look at them and know, somehow know, that things will, can, do happen. Unimaginable things. Really. I know this. You can trust me. I do.

And it also is understandable to be home and to be wondering how to put that into this. I saw a guide yesterday who talked about relaxing and letting go and not trying to push anything into anyplace. Just let go, trust. Keep trusting. Keep imagining, though that is not necessary, really.

And a couple of things have happened that make me sit up and take notice. The café is busy. The staff is making really good food. The people who come here are coming, coming, coming in. Yesterday someone said, “Whenever I have something important, really important to do, I come to Laurey’s first. I eat, filling my body and my soul. And then I go do that thing. It is the way I start to do everything that is really important to me.”

And this morning someone picked up a bite of her quiche and said to me, “This is Joy on a plate.”

So those are good things. This is a fine place. I am incredibly lucky to have this as the place to come home to. I’m a part of something bigger than me here. And that is a very good thing. Going away. Coming home. Putting the two together. Creating a vision. Living it. It’s head spinning. And I’m happy to be home.

Oh – I turn 55 this week. Double Nickel. Another auspicious number. Another opportunity. Whoo whee! Whoa. Hold on. Here we go.

The lastest on the bike adventure

February 21, 2009

Gee whiz.

My bike has gone. Packing has started. It’s time for lists and final preparations and checking and cross checking. I leave on a day or two more than one week – March 3rd.

REALLY???!!!

I started pulling out all my bike clothes the other day, making piles on the window seat in my bedroom. My cat and dog spend time up on that window seat during the day, so when I came home, I found all my tidy stacks scattered all over the floor. SOME people are not happy with this activity.

There is a lot to think about with this ride. Getting in shape, for one. And I have overdone it and have had to actually pull back. But all the people who have been helping me train think I’ll be fine so I’m trying to settle into believing them.

Getting the final bits of equipment has been fun and methodical. I bought new Kevlar tires the other day. Hopefully they will be impervious to cactus spikes and broken glass. I have a new tube of sunscreen, and extra pair of bike shorts, new socks, new rain pants, new stuff. I feel like a kid on the first day of school, eager to try all those things I’ve been carrying around in my new pencil box. I do have a new pencil box, but it will not be going on the trip. My new handlebar bag WILL be going and in it will be my camera and all my little good luck charms.

Taking care of things here at work has been good. There is a fabulous team in place here. Emily and Adam and Jaime and Chris lead the office, shop, catering, and kitchen teams. And those teams all have great folks, cooks, servers, sweet people. Nothing will be different here at all – all the same people will be doing all the same things. Don’t stop coming! Don’t stop planning parties, lunches, breakfasts. We need you and this gang is ready to take care of you. (and if you ask, they’ll point to the map and tell you where I am and what’s going on.)

I’ve been learning how to do remote hookups with my little portable computer. I’ll be updating my blog (http://www.laureybikes.blogspot.com) on a regular basis and will also continue to send in my once-a-week notes to you right here. I now have a Facebook page too, (I am SO with it!) so if you want to be Facebook friends, feel free.

But I haven’t really had the “mom’s going to be gone for two months” conversation with the little furry friends. Emma, who works here, is going to take care of them and my house. She’ll take them for walks, well, not the cat, and they’ll be fine. I’m the one who gets chocked up thinking about my days without them. We have quite a little pattern these days and I will miss them very much.

I’ve been cleaning up my gardens and I know that when I get back the Iris will be up and the dogwoods will be in bloom and my yard will be lovely. That’s exciting. And my friend Gail is going to come and do some gardening work – making a nice compost pile, digging around in the dirt. It’ll be nice to come home to her and that.

My bees, I’m afraid, might not have made it. There is SO much to learn. Time will tell. I’ll know how things went once I get home. I might need to start all over again with new bees. We’ll see.

My sister is gong to help keep up with my bill paying and will start my car a couple of times. And by the end of this week I’ll be caught up with my desk, having balanced my accounts, arranged for my taxes, filled my prescriptions, changed all the batteries, done the final laundry and vacuuming. There is a lot to do to go away for two months.

I’m very excited. Excited about what I’ll see, who I’ll meet, what will happen. Thank you for sharing this adventure with me. And thank to everyone who helps make Laurey’s what it is. I could NOT do it without them.

I’ll send one more note from here next week.

Until then – cheers,
Laurey

Finally - Sunday Breakfast

Laurey’s is delighted to announce that we are now serving Sunday Breakfast.

We’re open from 9 until 2 on Sundays*

Made to order breakfasts:
French Toast
Omelets – you pick the ingredients
Local Eggs (any style)
Stone ground Grits and Gravy
Laurey’s own Blueberry Jam too
AND
Muffins
Scones, Biscuits
Breakfast Burritos
Quiche

All made right here.

Casual, gourmet comfort food.

Laurey’s
67 Biltmore Avenue
Asheville, NC 28801

828-252-1500
www.laureysyum.com

•we also serve breakfast every other day, but the Sunday thing is new!

See you soon!

Laurey
(and the gang)

A note from January 31, 2009

January 31, 2009

Hi hi hi!

Today is a great day. The chill is leaving. Yesterday’s freeze is melting away. Tomorrow it is supposed to be in the high 50s. NICE! This morning I could see light behind the trees as soon as my alarm went off. I love the light. I love the return to longer days. I love the promise of spring.

Tomorrow I am driving to Washington, DC to speak at a big fundraising dinner. A big group of women chefs is gathering to make their specialties for an audience of some couple of hundred guests. This event is a fundraiser for the Ovarian Cancer National Alliance – the primary beneficiary of my upcoming cross country bike ride. I’ve been invited to speak (for 2 minutes!!). I’m taking my bike and I’m excited.

Two minutes isn’t a long time, but still, I’m thrilled to do this initial speaking engagement. Pretty soon I’ll be riding across the country, meeting people all along the way. This message, the message about paying attention to your body, is a good one. Early detection can be a life saver. It was for me.

Next Thursday, the 5th, we are going to host a very important event. Lance Armstrong is starting a series of conversations – all over the world – about cancer. He is in Australia right now, kicking off this initiative, getting people to talk about the affect cancer has had on their lives. In September there is going to be a big summit in Ottawa where the results of these global conversations will be collected. Lance and this movement will hopefully make a worldwide difference in this terrible disease. The conversation here on the 5th will be the very first one of these in the entire Untied States. If you’d like to come share your thoughts and concerns (on the 5th from 5 – 7pm), register via e-mail with Mary Hill, the event organizer (maryh@c2cc.ca).

In other news – well, things seem to be cranking up. Though I’m trying to stay focused on every day’s tasks, I find myself drifting off to bike ride, bike ride, bike ride things. The other day someone asked, “So, are you going to be MORE tired or more ENERGIZED at the end of the ride?” who knows? I certainly don’t. I CAN say that I find myself quivering with excitement. I CAN say that my body is whipping through soreness and feelings of invincibility and the sense that this is absolutely impossible – sometimes in the span of a few minutes. I look around my house, my car, my office, my town, and wonder how it’s all going to be. Wonder wonder wonder.

So there I go again. And I still have a desk of assignments: menus to write, an article to do, my checkbook to balance, advertising to plan, on it goes. Then it will be time to go home, walk the dog, and try to settle down enough for sleep. Tomorrow it will be one day closer. And tomorrow we’ll start serving breakfast and then it’ll be time to go watch the Superbowl with my sweet friends and then it’ll be time to go to Washington and then it’ll be time for…

I’ll be in touch next week.

What a week!

January 24, 2009

What a week! Boy, after feeling like I was holding my breath, things seemed to blast open on Tuesday. And I held my breath again, waiting for it to be Tuesday and then waiting for it to be daylight and then waiting for it to be morning and then waiting for it to be noon.

Around 11:00 we turned on the radio at work and, at 11:50 we lined up chairs in the café and sat, rapt, as our new President took the oath of office. It was a magical, magical moment. And, in that moment, I felt like I started to let some air in, out, in, out.

The afternoon was quiet and I had no idea if all the people who were supposed to come to our party would come. It was cold and I wouldn’t have blamed anyone for staying home. But right at 6:00 people started to drift in and by 6:25 the café was packed, people carrying their chili and beer to tables, pushing the chairs around, rearranging things, making themselves at home. At one table, a cluster of friends leaned in, sharing the highlights of the days’ celebration. Up in front, people who had not known each other shared tables, shared stories, shared friendship. Someone had given us some balloons and they made the place look very fun.

When everyone left I, still quivering from the energy, started to let in all the voices of all the people who have been saying that they’d like to come to our place at night. It suddenly began to make sense. This place is a nice place and so I just felt like, well, why not? So we’re going to work it out and pretty soon we’ll be open for you. (And this very weekend we’re going to start with Sunday breakfast. Fun, eh?)

So on Wednesday I was still feeling spirited and began to feel like I was emerging from a major slump and emerging felt really good. The balloons were still full of helium and the place looked festive still and I was so happy about our new President. (I was not thrilled that the balloons set off my shop’s motion detectors, making me go in to work in the middle of a nice dinner I had cooked at my house for my sister, but she’s good company so it didn’t matter that much.) And I got an e-mail from our new President and hooked into the new White House website. Amazing.

On Thursday I was part of a fancy dinner for a couple hundred guests, a fundraiser for the scholarship program of our Independent Restaurant Association. I had a BLAST! All of us chefs helped plate each other’s courses and it was a very, very fun night. Big time teamwork. Great food. Big fun. We all want to do more so stay tuned.

And by Friday I was still in a good mood. The balloons were still full (who has ever heard of balloons staying inflated for that long?) And at night I made a birthday dinner for a friend who had gone to the Inauguration and a bunch of friends and I sat around making her tell story after story. “And THEN what happened?’ “And then!?”

Today is Saturday and it’s taken me until night to finish my newsletter because there was a computer glitch. So I left work, took the pup for a walk, and just took a deep breath. No reason to sweat this small annoyance. And when I left work the balloons were still full of helium. And I still felt good.

I’ll be in touch next week.

in the kitchen with the red Trek