MY ACCOUNT

December 23

Hi mum,
 

I don’t quite know how to start this letter… I don’t even know how it’s already been a year since I last wrote to you.

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All this past year, I have hoped that you would be proud of how things have turned out for me, because it’s been better than I could have dreamed.

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And now I know for sure that you would be… Because yesterday I found your letter.

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I don’t know if it was because I’d forgotten you had one, or because I’d been blind to it when I was going through the boxes last year, but yesterday I found your journal, buried at the bottom of one of the boxes. And as I picked it up, your letter fell out. The letter you wrote for my 20th birthday, just before the accident.

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Reading it felt like maybe this has all been orchestrated. Because how else is it possible for you to have had a dream that I manifested?

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After my letter to you last year, I was finally ready to face the food truck – I hadn’t even gone near it after it was repaired. It’s just been sitting in a garage I rented.

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Walking inside felt like stepping into a dream. I could see the kitchen in full gear, I could smell the sweet scorch of caramelized sugar, I could hear the sizzle and pop of butter in a frying pan. And I could picture a covered dining area up top.

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I immediately knew I’d found the right spot for the Salt bakery. (By the way, Nora came up with the official name: The Salt Baker.)

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I think I stayed there in the food truck until all the daylight was gone, just sketching out my ideas. By the time I got home, it was dark, the kitchen was full of our location search team, and I was buzzing with excitement. I literally couldn’t stop shaking.

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I went to bed that night feeling like you had given me a gift - that in my acceptance of what was, and making the decision to finally really, truly live, you’d sent me exactly what I’d been looking for.

Now I know that I was right. Your letter is absolute proof of that.

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Jerry got to work right away, he was as excited as I was - actually, everyone was as excited. There was something about that food truck that just lit everyone up.

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So much so, actually, that what could have been finished in three weeks took about three months to complete, because everyone who was involved was so entertained in the process. We just kept dreaming up little ways to improve an idea - add something here, decor items there - until we realized that none of us wanted the project to be done. It was new and exciting for all of us, and no one wanted to depart from that journey, even though the destination was sure to be another adventure.

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What we ended up creating, though, has been incredible. I think even you would be amazed, Mom.

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The dining area was initially going to be an open-air patio-style, but Jerry and his team ended up designing it with glass walls and a domed glass ceiling so that it can be used year-round. And what’s really cool is that they designed the kitchen exhausts to pull heat from the kitchen to vent up into the dining area to heat it. But even better - Jerry designed the glass panel walls for the dining area to pop open and slide down so that in the summer it’s fully ventilated for the East Coast heat.

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While Jerry’s team was taking care of the renovations, the realtor team kept the search going for properties, while Jenna and Nora started on design and decor for the dining area. Nora even did the design work for the sign and menus. Meanwhile, Lou helped me with equipment prep, and in the evenings, the whole team would eat together and give me feedback on the menu offerings.

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I know it sounds overwhelming, but that month was one of the best I’ve ever experienced.

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When the realtor team found a beautiful property overlooking the water, at the base of the hilly streets of Camden, Jenna and Jerry surprised me with something else – Jerry had constructed an additional kitchen space that can attach to the food truck’s kitchen. But this kitchen space has multiple stations… so I can host cooking classes, rent it out as a commercial kitchen, or even use it as a community kitchen.

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“Even I might sign up for a cooking class!” Jenna exclaimed. Just as fast, she said, “No, nope. Never mind. I’d rather do the eating and rating.”

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But even with that proclamation, Jenna has attended every new cooking class I’ve hosted. And though all the classes have been fully booked, I must not be a very good teacher, because Jenna really can’t cook worth a damn. Still.

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I don’t know how I got so lucky to have found a friend like her, though.

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The Salt Baker has been open now for almost eight months, and we’ve been the toast of the town! There have been a few hiccups here and there, as expected with any new business, but I’m finding it very easy to manage, especially with all the support I’ve had. Not just easy - enjoyable. It’s been a much more fulfilling experience doing this with so many friends and helping hands than I had imagined. I always expected that I’d feel more accomplished doing it on my own, more worthy of it. But after all this, Mom, I can see that it would have been missing the heart - that essence that is this little community of people who have poured their enthusiasm and energy into creating this with me.

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My life feels like it’s got a pulse now, a rhythm. Even in the unexpected of so many moving parts and so many people involved, there are constants that keep my heart beating with joy.

The daily visitors at the bakery and at home - we’ve continued the tradition of group dinners.

Nora’s visits.

An ever-boiling tea kettle.

The never-ending supply of foodie gifts at my doorstep - be it at the bakery or at home.

Friends to enjoy it with.

An abundance of chatter and laughter.

A constant laundry load of stained aprons.

And salt. Lots and lots of salt.

 

 

I love you, Mum. Forever and always, your Bea.