The easiest dreams are those that happen with butter and eggs. Brown the butter, beat the eggs, and sift the flour. Whip, fold, and stir. Add passion and bake in a 350° oven until the edges begin to pull away from the side of the pan. Let cool completely and frost with whippy cream and lots of sugar. These dreams are thought of one day and come true the next. Others walk into these dreams when the sweetness is plated and served.
Hard dreams are the ones that could come true but are denied. They are not denied because they have to be denied. They just are. The dreams are sadly placed in the back of the fridge. Over the years those dreams are forgotten; they become moldy and you think they ought to be tossed.
One denied dream of The Kitchen recently came true in the most delightful way. The dream had been mostly forgotten. It had been tucked away in the back corner of the fridge and grew moldy fur and put forth an odor when stirred.
The Kitchen’s dream was to stroll Pike Place Market; catch a flying fish; slowly sip a cup of Market Spice Tea, and maybe even eat a greasy basket of fish and chips. I wanted to visit every foodie vendor, the butcher, the baker, and maybe even chat up the charcuterie guy.
I wanted to feast my eyes on gorgeous bouquets, fill my nose with the salt air, and freely drool over the beautiful baked goods.
This dream is not the grandest dream of The Kitchen but it was a squashed dream. I never agreed to trade this dream for another or to shelf it until a better time. It was simply squashed long ago. When dreams are squashed a small piece of the heart quits beating. It gives up hope thus making the stumbling into a dream an expected joy that jump starts that forgotten corner of the heart.
I did not expect to take the train over the river and through the woods to cook Thanksgiving dinner but I did. I did not expect a long train lay-over made longer by mechanical delays but it happened. So there the Reigning Queen sat in a Seattle train station just 1.2 miles from Pike Place Market. There she sat with her tiara in one hand and her roller bag in the other debating the adventure of thump, thump, thumping to Pike Place or the safety of primly sitting in the boring station waiting for the train.
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! The roller bag followed closely behind as The Reigning Queen marched to meet her long-forgotten dream. Dreams are not meant to be forgotten. You might not get to live them right away but do not forget about them. They just might come true when you least expect it.
Oh. And don’t forget to say thank you.