Hello. Let me re-introduce myself.
Today I woke up with the sunrise and went for a quiet morning run. I took a stroll downtown to procure espresso and to revel in the diffused brilliance of the lingering summer morning sun.
There was nothing particularly extraordinary about this series of events. I have been following this routine, or at least some version of it, for almost a year now—since I moved to Kingston, Ontario last September and fell in love with all it has to offer. From its light-filled apartments attached to limestone houses, to its abundance of cafés and dessert bars and farm-to-table restaurants and its picturesque view of the St. Lawrence.
Yet, today was different. Today, I decided, would signify new beginnings.
Some of us start out in life knowing exactly who they are, what they want and what they want to do. They take the necessary steps that many before them have tried and tested, and therefore know to be true, that will allow them to achieve their desired goals.
And then there are those of us who think they know what they want, but who in the process of life discover (sometimes repeatedly) that what they wanted is no longer what they want—that who they were is no longer who they have become. While some will choose to stay on the path they’ve originally chosen where it’s familiar, comfortable and safe, others will muster up the courage to diverge. Unprepared and uncertain, they will choose to alter the course of their lives in pursuit of internal (and eternal?) happiness and satisfaction.
I have fallen into the latter category. And I have mustered such courage. After a college degree, and two university degrees, I have chosen to leave behind the world of academia. With oft-wavering confidence and vulnerable determination, I have decided to dedicate myself to the world of cafés and bakeries—to the world of baking and coffee, where I have never caught myself counting down the hours on the clock, procrastinating or working for the weekend. And I’d like to invite you along with me on this journey.
No more school. No more indirect learning. I want to learn by doing and to use this blog as a way of documenting and sharing my successes and failures—to build friendships and a community around shared experiences. To create memories punctuated by flour, butter and sugar, by espresso and cream and the sharp sound of forks on pie plates, the tinkling of porcelain tea cups in white saucers, masked by laughter and the buzz of lively conversation.
Today, I decided, life would take on new meaning, a new path. I put on a frilly white dress. I walked down to the Golden Rooster Deli and I purchased one of their homemade Berliners—a yeasted jelly-filled doughnut. Since my arrival in Kingston I have ogled these round, shimmering pearls of jelly incased in sweet bread always on display in the deli window. But I’ve never indulged. Two months ago, upon finishing my Master’s degree and racked with the uncertainty of an unmarked future, I decided that the day I chose a path—the day I chose to leave Kingston or to stay—would be the day I heeded the seductive call of the Berliner.
I’ve since taken a job in a local bakery. And today I renewed the lease on my apartment. So today I ate a Berliner. I enjoyed the tickling sensation of fine sugar on my tongue and the pillowy, lush dough between my teeth interrupted by the sudden burst of sugary sweet raspberry jelly.
Today is different. And so is this blog.
Welcome to the re-launch of piecurious!