Ask a Foodie: All I want for Christmas: Fins & Feathers and philosophizing

First and foremost, I want to begin by thanking my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Wow, that wasn’t so difficult.

Let me back up for a moment.

For decades I watched celebrities say those words to millions during awards ceremonies. I thought, “When I’m famous, I want to be that kind of person.” Years passed. Education? Check. Career? Check. Pouring into my little family? Check. Desperate prayers flowed in times of need, followed by silent prayers of gratitude once trouble passed. Society encouraged me to take credit for “my” hard work and outcomes along the way, so I did.

Recently, I’ve been inspired by high school and college athletes quick to give all the glory to God during post-game interviews. Not mom, dad, coach, their team or their own hard work earned accolades. God first.

Hmmm, I wanted to be like them. I tried. I failed. It was harder than I thought.

Then, Black Friday happened.

I had Black Friday mapped out in my head from dawn until dusk. I’d enjoy some fresh ramen, stop by The Book Rack for a couple of books to enjoy on vacation, take care of a few errands, and then, once I’d worked up an appetite, I’d catch up with the Fins & Feathers food truck, which was scheduled to be at the West Park Mall for a limited time.

Easy peasy.

Friday morning my cozy bed held me captive, forcing me to press the “snooze” button several times before finally making my escape. My trip to The Book Rack a success, I added a trip to Barnes & Noble to the agenda for one last coveted item. Later, my simultaneous slurping on a bowl of steaming ramen and reading a book was punctuated with bouts of greeting familiar faces as they passed my table.

Then, it happened.

Full tummy and enriched soul, I returned to Big Red, put my key in the ignition, and turned. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

My plans, hopes and dreams flashed before my eyes. My trip. My vacation. Fins & Feathers. My column. All my hard work down the drain. I turned the key once again and Big Red roared to life. Not funny. Thankful but still worried, I rushed straight to Sam’s Club to have my battery checked. Sure enough, it was time. Great. I handed over my key and headed into the store to wait. I found a comfy faux leather recliner on display and decided it was a much better option for people watching than the automotive section. Before I knew it, I was … having a great time.

Things happen. Trips get canceled. Cars break down. Marriages end. People get sick. Sometimes, people we love even die. Plans change. Sometimes we need to be angry, sad, scared or whatever we are feeling until a better feeling comes along.

As I sat there thinking, I was mistaken for a Colts fan by a passerby. When I identified as a Cowboys fan, he didn’t reject me. He gave me a fist bump and declared me a friend. Then, a widow warmed my heart with memories of her family’s football traditions of the past. The cute red-headed guy I pretended not to notice as he strolled by a couple of times? Well, I noticed, and he kind of made me feel a little warm and fuzzy for a moment, too.

Suddenly, I was brought back to reality by the sound of my name over the speakers.

My vehicle energized; I arrived just in time to place my order at Fins & Feathers. It was a Christmas miracle. Their golden, steaming hot, award-winning fish was accompanied by hush puppies and thick-cut fried potatoes. They had all the accoutrements a fish lover could possibly want available to add to the deliciousness. My favorite thing? The chicken strips. As much as I loved the fish plate, the seasonings on the chicken strip I sampled had me hooked and left me craving more. My only complaint? I discovered them at the end of food truck season and will have to keep an eye on their social media pages for my next fix.

If someone told me a trip to a food truck could lead to a spiritual journey, I wouldn’t have believed them. If they said a soft-spoken, private person like me would share my personal life in a food column over seven years I’d say no way ... but God.

Mary Ann Castillo has more than 50 years of eating experience with no plans to stop.