Это предварительный просмотр рецепта "Chile Rubbed Salmon over Cheddar Grits".

Рецепт Chile Rubbed Salmon over Cheddar Grits
by Julie Ruble

I wrote this post as part of the Plugrá Butter Brigade. Thanks, Plugrá, for sponsoring this post and for making my favorite butter!

I dumped several spools of yellow curling ribbon out of my book bag and started cutting off lengths to tie around the willing arms of my classmates. Someone tied mine on. My coursing adrenaline had turned my head into a pressure cooker. I was walking into trouble and I knew it. But I also knew our cause was just.

As we collected our books, I surveyed the group around me one last time. We were a rag-tag bunch of middle school students, some in flip-flops or sneakers and others sporting the latest Timberland boots. Bob, whose real name was Daniel, stood tall and weird over in the corner. Jamie, who had singlehandedly launched the layered-curls trend that many girls subsequently tried to emulate with less success, was being effortlessly cool off to the right. Our yellow armbands probably looked like sad bows ripped off a kindergartener’s present and trampled in a hasty exodus toward a birthday bouncy house. But in my mind, they looked like something a warrior might wear.

The bell rang. Just like that, we marched out into the hallway and began what seemed then like the ultimate act of rebellion: we turned right instead of left.

LEFT was the way we’d been told to go. The halls all had designated directions now. You could only turn LEFT in the basement hallway, RIGHT on the first floor, and who knows what direction on the second floor since none of us ever went up there. These rules by themselves wouldn’t have been so bad. Indeed, they might have fulfilled their purpose and controlled the chaos in the hallways. But the administrators also ran bright yellow tape down the center of each hallway to divide it into two lanes, and we were instructed to only walk in the right lane.

THINK ABOUT THAT FOR A MINUTE. The reason you use lanes is to divide traffic going in opposing directions. But we were only allowed to go in one direction in each hallway. Are you getting a clear visual here? Because of the new rules, one side of every hallway was always empty while we were all crammed into a tiny right lane. Someone had made these stupid rules without thinking much about them and without ever coming to look at the effect they had. And when we complained, the administrators clamped down to assert their authority instead of listening to reason. So it was time to march. Our curly yellow armbands bounced in time to our steps as we flexed our tiny civil disobedience muscles that day.

To be honest, I don’t remember if anything changed because of our little show of resistance. I do remember, however, at least a half dozen other issues that found me standing up to my administration, my school board, and to other governing bodies in subsequent years. I'm not particularly rebellious, but I feel compelled to speak out when something doesn't seem right.

The church I attend right now uses a personality test (kind of like the Meyers-Briggs) called the Enneagram. I’ve been avoiding it for fear of finding out something bad about myself, but I finally caved the other day. My personality type is tied between 1 and 3, the Reformer and the Achiever. What’s hilarious about the results is that they perfectly described how I’m someone who feels the urge to speak out — and someone who is terrified of being wrong!

Both of those poles are held in tension as I prepare to write here every week. It's a relief to share the fun stories about teaching, hot yoga, and my obsession with Bob Ross. It's harder, but still so important to me, to share about my faith and my convictions about how to live it out in today's world. Who are our widows and orphans? What is our meat offered to idols? What is our circumcision of the heart? What is our freedom? Who is our neighbor? I churn these harder thoughts about justice around all the time, waiting for the urge that lets me know it's time to break out my yellow ribbons and hope they meet your willing arms.

For now, an offering of some Southern comfort: chile rubbed salmon over melt-in-your-mouth buttery cheese grits. Mike and I were in comfort food heaven while eating this, and I can't wait to use these grits in other recipes, too. Enjoy!

Have you taken the Meyers-Briggs or Enneagram? What is your personality type? Do you think it fits you? (By the way, I’m INFJ!)