Time to reactivate the Kitchen Dances blog! On the advent of relocating across North America, back to my old stomping grounds (and home of my first culinary adventures); Portland, Oregon – I find myself entering a philosophical bent; a reflection of many aspects.

Just as a canteloupe, or cucumber, orange or pineapple’s flavor changes as you taste through it, exposing the myriad facets of flavor within one plant soul – my soul is questing to taste and describe the myriad flavors of reflection on several fronts. These include, but are not limited too, my culinarians’ experience of having learned to cook in the Pacific NW and spending the last 13 years in northern New England. That aspect has a deep curiousity of what I will experience in returning to the culinary mecca of the NW.

Another reflectional flavor I am contemplating is my own life’s experience over the past decade and half – involving two loves, two loves lost, the inception and growth of two young beautiful daughters and what it means for a man to experience all that and the growths and losses of communities along the way. Consider this my cathartic journey, my expose, my self-description of survival and epiphanies.

I am also curious what it means to have re-migrated my family line – not just returning to the East from whence they came, but also to again move west (go West – youngish mid-40s man!). This includes the ancestral history of my great-uncle – Lewis Kingman – who surveyed the Santa Fe Railroad in the 1880s, fighting Bat Masterson, Pancho Villa and the Nez Perce to put a rail through to Los Angeles and other points. Kingman AZ was named after him, and there is a deep association within me of the West and of rail.

I hope to interview and share with you all the Chefs of the Empire Builder route. Perhaps I will be able to convince the conductor to let me into the train’s kitchen and chat 🙂

I likely will not be able to upload pics, video or sound until after the journey is over – Amtrak does not offer wifi on-board and I will be dependent upon train stations scattered across the continent that do (and if there is time during a whistle stop). With that –

Alllllllll Aboooaarddd!!!!

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