I spent last night in one of my favorite summer locations: Yankee Stadium. We made it through eight innings until this happened:
Regardless, there was such electricity radiating throughout the stadium – the eardrum bursting thunder, the literal sheets of wind and rain, the screams of the sopping crowd. This is how I know I’m a city girl – I may be an introvert, but living constantly amongst crowds is still exhilarating.
Let’s back up a few hours though.
My family has a tradition associated with baseball games, dating back to my father’s childhood. Piling into the car on Friday afternoons, my sister, father, grandfather, and I would begin the drive from Connecticut to the Bronx, chatting about stats, pitchers, and listening to stories of the old and classic games.
We parked the car under the subway tracks, where my sister and I would turn our heads upward in fascination, never imagining that we would ride those very trains to the stadium later in life. The four of us crossed the street to Epstein’s, a classic Jewish deli, while my grandfather pointed out the Bronx block he grew up on just around the corner.
My father and grandfather slowly savored their favorite indulgence: corned beef and pastrami on rye, with lots of Russian dressing and mustard. It was tradition, and to this day, I can’t imagine a baseball game without the deli associations.
Now that we meet our parents at the stadium, my dad always offers to order sandwiches for us. When I’ve turned it down, the only answer I can come up with is, “I just don’t feel like it.”
There have been times when I’ve felt self-conscious about my food choices. Ordering a salad when no one else does; craving ice cream when everyone else turns down dessert. But what I am finally learning is: as long as you make choices that satisfy what you want, nothing, and no one else’s opinions really matter.
I can’t say I don’t eat this or that, because I don’t classify myself under any food categories. But I have reached a point where I can sincerely honor the choices I desire. So, I enjoyed my own sandwich in the company of my parents, the Yankees, and the New York humidity. An ideal summer evening.
Do you ever second guess your food choices?