Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Salsa Parasite

I love salsa. I love the mild kinds that don't make you wish you could find a fire hose. I like the cilantro and tomatoes and onions and whatever else goes in there. I could eat pounds of salsa.

What's worse is that I have never made it. I have shopped the shelves at the supermarket for the perfect salsa. No dice there. I have found that the best salsas are home made. Every time I have had homemade salsa, it has been a treat. When I visit a friend's house and they have salsa, I always try to manipulate the relationship so I can get some to take home. I am what you might call a salsa parasite. I will mooch, lie, cheat, and steal to get good salsa. I admit it - I have no scruples. I am an addict. It's not my fault.

Having said all that, there is something redeeming in all this. (Being an ex-preacher, I have to find a lesson in everything, whether one actually exists or not). There is a profound difference between store bought and home made salsa. Given a choice between something that came off an assembly line and something that someone created in their own kitchen, I will take the kitchen every time. There is a person behind the product, not a factory. There is love and creativity and uniqueness in the homemade process. There is personality there. And because there is a person (and not a machine) behind the product, it is never the same twice.

My buddy John recently made some salsa. I have to admit it was really good. We were visiting he and his wife the other day, and when he pulled out the salsa, my eyes lit up. I tasted it, then ate most of what he had and pouted until he filled the bowl again. Then I mooched as much as I could get him to pile into Tupperware.

Tonight we had John's salsa for part of our dinner. Actually, I ate almost all of it by myself for dinner. (Laura chastised me for hogging it all, but I didn't have the least amount of guilt). Part of why I like John's salsa is that it was his. He made it. He loved on it. He decided what went in and what didn't. You could tell the heart of the chef in the salsa. And as my friendship with John has grown I have come to love and appreciate the wonder of who he is as my brother and friend. The salsa was particularly valuable to me because my friend made it.

God has given us an awful lot of really good things. Not just salsa, but a whole world out there to be tasted. When was the last time you could tell His heart for you in what he made for you?

1 comment:

Salsa Maker said...

While I've openly resisted reading your blog, or signing up for your newsletter, I'm honored to show up in any of your writings.
My resistance only comes from my desire to live out genuine relationships face-to-face.
And this gets at one of my deepest yearnings; to enjoy true and intimate long-term relationships that span many years. I moved to "Pagoslow" looking for this kind of "community", and have sadly found way too much transiency, just like where I moved from. Two tough winters in a row and watch 'em run! Can we be so easily dissuaded? Economics are tough, relationships get messy...are we THAT ready to just get up and leave?!?
We've made leaving so easy, so common, that we're shocked to learn that someone was BORN where they live as an adult! Or that a couple has been married beyond 10 years!
Easy divorce, easy bankruptcy, easy U-Haul moves...constantly running from real life, chasing after a high like some teenage weed-fiend.
I want no such easy contentment. My best self wants to be found with some depth, some years of experience, some time of connection with where Dad has placed me.
Mike, it is my greatest hope that we grow this friendship for a very long time to come. So, sign me up for the newsletter. I crave genuine relationships so deeply that I'll take the subscription, trusting that it's just a "tide-me-over" until our next relational coffee (or salsa) opportunity.