There’s a reason why Benny and I always want to stick around even after we’ve finished our work for the day. A reason why we eagerly stayed after our summer internships ended, when the suits offered Benny the fall culinary internship to continueAmateur Hourand step into more of a chef’s role, and me a part-time permanent position to film with Benny and launch the new series with the women of FoF.
This place feels like home.
Helping developFeminism with Flavor—from designing our logo to coordinating guest spots and everything in between—has given me more of a sense of belonging than I can recall ever having. It’s the coolest thing to be a part of, and we’re only a few episodes in. Since we rotate which of the female chefs, plus amateur me, hosts each one, I hadn’t been able to see Katherinefilming yet. Benny, arguably the biggest fan of our new show, was eager to sneak in and get a glimpse of Nat, Clara, and me after we finished filming our own video today, which we’ve dubbed “Take Your Friends to Work Day.”
As it turns out, my boyfriend unwittingly played a big role in the series having such a successful launch. The livestream in which “an amateur baker quickly devolves into madness and cake metaphors as he tries to win back his girlfriend,” as one news anchor described it, went viral in an even bigger way than Benny getting hit with a salmon. It boosted Friends of Flavor’s subscriber count significantly, though many of the new fans have probably been disappointed with how little romantic drama 99percent of our content entails.
Still, the buzz was great for bringing public attention to the channel as a whole, and Benny and, more reluctantly, I, even gave a couple of interviews in which we talked about the hate that women online receive and plugged our new, woman-centric series. This led to an outpouring of support, so much that the anti-Reese mob has been all but drowned out. And any uncertainty that Aiden and Geoffrey Block, CEO, still had aboutFeminism with Flavoror about me was swept away in the resulting wave of sponsorship and advertising interest.
The four of us manage to squeeze into the elevator outside of Friends of Flavor, our brightly colored coats serving a stark contrast to the businesspeople’s blacks and grays. We keep talking the whole way down, Nat and Clara chattering excitedly aboutseeing the prep kitchens in real life, meeting Rajesh and Nia, how much they enjoyed today’sAmateur Hourepisode. Normally, the only sounds on this ride are the soft tapping on phone screens and occasional throat clearing. But instead of feeling awkward or nervous about upsetting the peace and quiet, I’m more comfortable in this spot than I’ve ever been.
“Tacos for dinner? We talked about taking y’all to that new place on Forty-Fifth,” Benny says over his shoulder to my friends, taking my hand as we walk out of the building and onto the busy downtown sidewalk. I suppress a grin at his “y’all,” a new addition to his vocabulary that he doesn’t even seem to notice. Nat isn’t gonna let it slide, though.
“Oh, werey’all,Norby? How fun!” she teases in an extra-thick accent. He reaches out and flicks the side of her head, which is more or less the essence of their relationship. I’m not sure he’ll ever fully forgive me for telling my friends his real name.
“But it’s a Wednesday,” I answer his original question as I peer up at the sky. We’re firmly out of the dreamy summer weather, and the clouds are threatening a drizzle anytime now.
“It’s Tuesday somewhere,” he says. Traditionally, we only eat tacos on Taco Tuesdays, when a lot of our favorite places have special deals. Which is to say, we eat tacos on most Tuesdays.
“That is plainly untrue,” I say with a smirk. “What if we go to the dining hall tonight? I need to use my meal plan more. I can even buy dinner for everyone with my flex points.Pleeease?”
“Oh, all right,” Benny says, sighing. “But they’d better have broccoli casserole.”
The food snobbery of the other Friends has definitely rubbed off on the two of us, which has made dorm life a challenge. I’ve had to instate a “no negativity” rule when I bring Benny along and buy him food with my points. So now he only talks about the foods hedoeslike there, which are basically any made in a giant casserole dish that taste like only a grandma could make them.
Though not Benny’s grandma, as she’s Italian and therefore in a different league cuisine-wise. I’ve had his parents’ home cooking a few times now, first when his mom came and stayed in his tiny studio apartment with him for a week after he moved from the Seattle U dorm. She was worried about his ability to feed himself as he relocated and settled in while simultaneously starting part-time classes at culinary school and working at Friends of Flavor. This was in spite of Benny’s protests that most of his days are spent doing nothing but cooking and eating. I was excited to meet her, though, and even more so when I had her homemade manicotti with cannoli for dessert, and subsequently found a way to have dinner with them every night that week.
We’ve also been down to see the rest of his family in San Francisco, on the rare weekend when neither of us had other plans. I quickly learned that Benny’s brothers (a) are every bit as beautiful as he is, which he really loves to hear from me, and (b) will never let him live down the Reese’s Cup cake episode, which they were streaming live on every TV in their restaurant.
My family has not yet admitted to watching it, and they have been strongly encouraged not to. At least not before they meet Benny in person, when he comes home with me for Christmas.
So far, he’s surpassed expectations for in-person meetings with the two other most important people in my life. We picked Natalie and Clara up from the airport when they got in last night—one of many reasons I’m thankful for a boyfriend with a car now in his possession—and their ease around each other has been blowing my mind. With our limited space, we’ve divided and conquered, with Clara crashing on my dorm room futon and Natalie staying on Benny’s couch. So far, Nat is freaked out by Benny’s cleanliness and he by her “snoring like a freight train.” Secretly, I think they’re both thrilled to have the chance to grill one another without me present.
“So picky, Benjamin. Maybe you’ve got that cap screwed on a little too tight—you seem irritable,” his temporary roomie teases.
“Careful, Nat, he knows where you sleep,” Clara warns, glancing up from her phone with a smirk. She’s been glued to it so far, texting Jessie, formerly known as the pretty redheaded court justice from camp and now known as Clara’s long-distance girlfriend. She still gives us the bare minimum as far as relationship updates or even a basic rundown of what Jessie is like, but she seems happier than I’ve ever seen her, so I don’t complain.
“Gimme a break, the people love the hats,” my boyfriend sighs with mock exasperation. He still wears his backward caps in the kitchen; he tried to go hatless one time onAmateur Hourand that episode’s only comments were about how goofy he looked. But he knows how much I like his curly hair, so on days we’re not filming, he sets it free.
Benny does a lot of things to make me happy. He cooks for me often, naturally, letting me act as quality control for anything new he’s learned in class. He keeps a pitcher of sweet tea in his fridge at all times, usually with lemon wedges in a dish beside it, ever since I taught him my mamaw’s way of making it. He gives the best neck massages when I let school stress get to me—not that I have much frame of reference when it comes to neck massages, but his are amazing.
He also keeps me adventuring, pushing me gently into trying new things that are out of my comfort zone or that break down my shell a little more. But he’s always the first one to pull me back in, to tell me that my feelings and fears and freak-outs are okay, and talk to or hold me or whatever I need until I feel all right again. His favorite thing is talking about our feelings. I’m working on that one.
I still have a lot to work through, of course. I probably always will, because who doesn’t? But these past few months have been transformative, through the job and my relationships, the falls and the recoveries. I’ve found my people—Benny, capitalFfriends and lowercaseffriends from my dorm and classes, a therapist recommended by Queen Katherine herself, and the folks back home who have been with me from the start and for whom I have a new appreciation now that we’re long distance. And it’s with all of their help that I’m finally finding my way.
Which is ironic since currently, in a city where two of us have lived for almost half a year, I’m pretty sure we’re lost.
“Aren’t most of the buses that take us toward UW going to be back that way?” I ask hesitantly, pointing in the direction we came from.
“Little predinner detour, Reese’s Cup. Come on, let’s catch this one!”
I raise my brows in confusion but turn to my friends with a shrug before the three of us jog to keep up with Benny. He pulls my hand, my backpack bouncing against my puffy coat. We hop onto the crowded bus just before the driver closes the door and scan our ORCA cards as we claim standing spots in the aisle. It’s a bus route I’m not familiar with and I watch out the window, curious as to whether Benny actually knows where we’re going.
I ask him as much and he shrugs, the look in his eyes conveying that there is a plan, but he will not be telling us. I just hope that whatever it is, it’ll leave me enough time to write my sociology paper that’s due tomorrow.
We ride through the Belltown neighborhood, shifting a bit at each stop as people get off and on. Benny and I share a few Seattle fun facts with our guests as we go. Then, finally, he pushes the red button to signal we’re disembarking at the next stop.
Right by Seattle Center. Hmm…
