At first, this blog was about food.
(and it still is, sort of…)
It was about how food relates to our lives – be it region or ritual or your momma’s red beans and rice.
It was about my journey as a Mississippi boy who moved to Portland and fell in love with real food and real characters.
And then it became so much more.
Here, I still talk about food, life in the industry as a cook and how it is intertwined into the fabric of my own little world.
It has become a place where I rest my heels on the things that flow in and out of that same little world.
A place where my voice is heard, and a place where I hear yours.
A place where I struggle and ask for wisdom on things I’m not sure I’m even supposed to know yet.
A place that fits me. That is comfortable and forgiving and big.
But also small enough for a cozy poem or two.
I refer to my belly as a place of movement. Where I can feel deep down the changing of seasons and the shifting of thought.
This place is Southern Belly.
And I’m glad you’re here.