Snapshot: Randolph Macon Academy, an Air Force JROTC boarding school situated an hour west of Washington DC, the foothills of the Shenandoah, Blue Ridge and just approaching the Allegheny ranges. A far from ordinary cast of international and far-flung domestic characters. Early, crisp mornings, marching in even crispier starched outfits of blues. I was assigned the the only paid position for students but sadly, now a defunct relic.
Call me, the Captain of the Mess
I traveled to California, took a local pizza gig in Oceanside. By fall, I was attending the University of Hawai’i at Mānoa and had joined up with a fraternal order, a social club of men with good intentions. Rainbow Warriors! I worked at a tiny Greek kitchen around the corner and tried my darnedest. I remember taking moments of my life as snapshots with a pen and some words. However, I was mostly preoccupied with non academic, visceral, tactile pursuits.
I took a flight to Dublin on St. Patrick’s day, 2007 (it’s bigger in Chicago). I had the opportunity to cook for a household of artists in Pimlico. That was neat, but I was raking coals in my mind so to speak. While in Europe, I took time to eat, grow (round) and open my palette.
Georgetown, D.C. I began to reapply myself by attending a community college for vocational work. In tandem to my studies, I was busy at nights makin’ mean spuds at an Irish bistro in Dupont Circle. Hot artisanal sandwiches, roasts and stews, soups with cream and tomatoes are some of my favorites.
Europe in 2012, Munich, 8 months. I witnessed the Modern Mass Immigration movement after the Arab Spring and Syrian Civil War. I took a position at Bachmaier Hofbräu as the sous de patisserie/garde manger in the Münchner Freheit district. Bavarian delicacies go right to the midsection. meats and brown savory sauces, dumplings, oh my.
South Florida heat and Latin flavors in Boca Raton as Chef Instructor at Sur la Table, and Sous Chef of a local Irish Bistro. May 2016, I took an undergrad from Florida Atlantic University. Go (burrow) Owls!
I am a dusty tomb that spans a thousand years.
You may find within this domain: a homage, The Song of Roland, the Round Table and it’s Arthurian Romances thundering loudly in my halls with groans in the courtyard waged for Isolde and Tristram and feasting to match the fidelity and courage of Sir Gawain!
Ancient tidings and Kingdoms, Ireland, Wales, Scotland and France are riveted to my binding. Historical fictions from authors such as Sir Walter Scott, Waverley, to Dumas’ D’Artagnan Romances are tapestries I’ve hung on display.
20th, 19th and 18th century romantic and pastoral French, English verse are the fare and magical libation.
The man who personified English colonialism, Rudyard Kipling seems to be clutching that goblet, shouting of new lands, the dawning of ages, modern warfare and horror with his friend Charge of the Light Brigade Lord Tennyson, drunkenly jousting words. But our loud-mouthed lover, 19th century French Baudelaire, Fleurs du Mal, wants nothing to do with those type…
I’d love to connect! click through Imgur, a glimpse towards Flickr, reveal wonderful foods like the feast of Vegas, and shout out it loud! Twitter. Instagram or Tumblr, stop in link up! for the combination of my global adventures, interests, foods and le romantique.
happiness and health to all!
Joe Foley, Captain of the Mess