Imagine that your life is a giant wheel with spokes that reach out and touch every area of your life - work, relationships, family, community, health. At the center of this wheel is a core of knowledge, wisdom and experience called You. The more rooted you are to this center, the more connected you'll be to your values, needs and desires - and your life will take on a deeper sense of meaning and purpose.
-- Cheryl Richardson
I’d been searching for THE PERFECT grilled cheese sandwich. That’s right, a grilled cheese sandwich. Cheese, bread, and butter melted together just so. Maybe a pickle on the side.
I searched all over town – the parts of town with the most eclectic eateries that were certain to specialize in fancy breads and cheeses, and the parts of town where you’d need to get your bread and cheese and get out of there before dark. The fancy places made their grilled cheese sandwiches with sourdough or rye breads, flatbreads or any variation of whole grain breads. The cheeses – all of them fresh – ranged from Muenster and Gouda to Brie and Gorgonzola. All of them were sprinkled with some sort of spice for that extra tang – which of course you must have because why else would you want to buy a grilled cheese sandwich at a fancy eating place but for the tang and spice, right? I had quite a few of those upmarket cheese sandwiches; they were very good. But, there was always something not quite right, always something missing.
At the not-so-fancy restaurants, the grilled cheese sandwiches consisted of Cheddar or American cheese, maybe some Swiss, Monterey, or Pepper Jack cheese, slapped haphazardly – and only slightly melted – between bread. And when I say bread, I mean just bread, nothing elaborate or expensive. One restaurant plopped some processed cheese between a couple pieces of Wonder Bread – I saw the red, yellow, and blue circles on the bread bag – and told me to have a nice day. Another restaurant made me a blackened hoecake with their logo burned into it. I knew it was their logo because of the indentations on the press they used to set and smash my poor little sandwich.
I even ordered a kids’ meal grilled cheese sandwich thinking that something so simple would be made to please. I turned that place in to Children’s Services for cruelty to children.
I finally came to a conclusion. Either no one knew what a real grilled cheese sandwich should look and taste like, or, perhaps, I wanted too much. I have been guilty of such.
So, endlessly craving a grilled cheese sandwich, and not satisfied with what I’d found anywhere, I grabbed the tried-and-true skillet I inherited from my aunt, got the honey wheat bread, cheddar cheese, and salty butter – yes, salty butter! – from my frig and commenced to making me a grilled cheese sandwich.
Now, I’ve made grilled cheese sandwiches forever and ever on my stove but at that moment it occurred to me that I made the greatest grilled cheese sandwich I’ve ever tasted! I had all the ingredients and I could make it the way I wanted it.
Making my sandwich in my kitchen, I realized I didn’t have to wait in restaurants for somebody to create their version of a good grilled cheese sandwich. I didn’t have to wait for someone else to put my bread and cheese together; I could get that right for myself and better than they could for me. And while there was nothing wrong with waiting for the cooks to fix my sandwich, I could cook too, and I knew my sandwich was worth the wait.
Making my sandwich meant paying attention to what I really liked. It meant paying attention to the ingredients I used and how much of them I added. My sandwich was made with care and, if it wasn’t exactly the way I wanted it, I could start over and make it again. I could even get my cookie cutter from the drawer and make a Christmas tree shaped grilled cheese sandwich if that’s the way I wanted it. Couldn’t get that at the canteens about town.
Making my grilled cheese sandwich was not fancy; I didn’t include any French breads, German cheeses, or Italian spices. The only effort it took was putting to use what I already had. Standing over the stove was more than a notion for me – cooking is not my gig – but the outcome was satisfying when I sat at my little table and took that first scrumptious bite. Never again have I needed to have a grilled cheese sandwich from anywhere but my own house. I have everything I need.
