MUSINGS FROM JOAN #26
The hot new movie for foodies is “Julia & Julie” and I am looking forward to seeing it very soon. I can mentally envision Julia Child’s old TV show on public television with her inimitable voice and often hilarious commentary. I believe she invented the “5 second rule” that I live by. You know. If something edible drops on the floor and is picked up within 5 seconds, it is perfectly fine to continue cooking/serving/eating said item.
Watching Julia on TV is about as close as I have come to gourmet cooking, but my daughter Andrea seems to have inherited a cooking gene that certainly didn’t come from my side of the family tree. My mother’s entire spice repertoire began and ended with salt, and, in a bow to her Hungarian heritage, an occasional dash of paprika. A garlic clove would have left her puzzled. Every recipe she ever cooked apparently came with the words “cook until extremely well done”. I thought liver was supposed to taste like shoe leather until I was an adult. My sister, on the other hand, is truly a gourmet cook, but we have always considered her unquestionable ability to be a family aberration. So Andrea’s love of cooking and total ease with the entire process never ceases to amaze me.
I tell you this because I just returned from a weekend in Charlotte that included a dinner party in my daughter’s home Saturday evening. The menu was Chicken Piccata accompanied by broad noodles and fresh string beans. Dessert was strawberries and blueberries on sponge cake topped with whipped cream.
We were gone from the house most of the day and when we returned home around 4 o’clock I worriedly inquired whether we should get started working on dinner. Andrea responded by taking a nap. Since I don’t nap, I set the table and stood around wondering what else I could do to help. In desperation, I redid my make-up and checked my e-mail. The guests were due at 6:30 and when my daughter finally arose and meandered into the kitchen it was already close to 6.
I watched in fascination as she deftly prepared the chicken, washed and cut the ends off the beans, and fired up the professional style gas stove. Andrea’s home has a spacious open kitchen centered by a large granite-topped island. A far cry from the isolated and closed in kitchens that I grew up with. Guests never seem to make it to her living room but prefer to gather around the island, drinking wine, nibbling on appetizers and keeping her company as she cooks.
Bernice, arrived first, carrying a bottle of red wine, followed a few minutes later by Doreen, carrying a bottle of Pinot Grigio. A few minutes later, in came Linda Joy, laden down with two loaves of freshly baked bread and the appetizer de jour, some kind of delicious flat bread covered with interesting veggies that I was unable to identify but tasted wonderful. Andrea popped it into the microwave to heat up and never missed a beat flipping the chicken fillets and stirring the piccata sauce. I had to get my camera to document the scene with the steam rising from all the pans and my daughter (my daughter?) calmly presiding over the entire business between sips from her wine glass.
I know I sound like a proud mother, but the dinner was marvelous, the wine flowed, and the company was great. These are all interesting women from varying backgrounds, both business and cultural. I enjoy talking to them and listening to what they have to say. Doreen, a transplanted Brit and recently retired business owner, just installed an English garden at her townhome. Bernice, an IT marketing specialist in her business life, brought over samples of the beautiful beaded jewelry she has been making in her spare time, and Linda Joy, a banking executive and certified Master Gardener, hauled in enough mature iris plants from her garden to distribute some to each of the women.
Lest you think I never entertain in my own home, I love having company for drinks and hors d’oeuvres. I set up a stunning cheese platter and know how to purchase a great dip. My bar is stocked with the best vodka and scotch and some really interesting wines. There’s even some designer beer in the fridge.
After that, as the pillow on my den couch so aptly puts it, “The one thing I make for dinner is a reservation.” Bon appétit!
# # # #
Photo caption: Chef Andrea at work!
The hot new movie for foodies is “Julia & Julie” and I am looking forward to seeing it very soon. I can mentally envision Julia Child’s old TV show on public television with her inimitable voice and often hilarious commentary. I believe she invented the “5 second rule” that I live by. You know. If something edible drops on the floor and is picked up within 5 seconds, it is perfectly fine to continue cooking/serving/eating said item.
Watching Julia on TV is about as close as I have come to gourmet cooking, but my daughter Andrea seems to have inherited a cooking gene that certainly didn’t come from my side of the family tree. My mother’s entire spice repertoire began and ended with salt, and, in a bow to her Hungarian heritage, an occasional dash of paprika. A garlic clove would have left her puzzled. Every recipe she ever cooked apparently came with the words “cook until extremely well done”. I thought liver was supposed to taste like shoe leather until I was an adult. My sister, on the other hand, is truly a gourmet cook, but we have always considered her unquestionable ability to be a family aberration. So Andrea’s love of cooking and total ease with the entire process never ceases to amaze me.
I tell you this because I just returned from a weekend in Charlotte that included a dinner party in my daughter’s home Saturday evening. The menu was Chicken Piccata accompanied by broad noodles and fresh string beans. Dessert was strawberries and blueberries on sponge cake topped with whipped cream.
We were gone from the house most of the day and when we returned home around 4 o’clock I worriedly inquired whether we should get started working on dinner. Andrea responded by taking a nap. Since I don’t nap, I set the table and stood around wondering what else I could do to help. In desperation, I redid my make-up and checked my e-mail. The guests were due at 6:30 and when my daughter finally arose and meandered into the kitchen it was already close to 6.
I watched in fascination as she deftly prepared the chicken, washed and cut the ends off the beans, and fired up the professional style gas stove. Andrea’s home has a spacious open kitchen centered by a large granite-topped island. A far cry from the isolated and closed in kitchens that I grew up with. Guests never seem to make it to her living room but prefer to gather around the island, drinking wine, nibbling on appetizers and keeping her company as she cooks.
Bernice, arrived first, carrying a bottle of red wine, followed a few minutes later by Doreen, carrying a bottle of Pinot Grigio. A few minutes later, in came Linda Joy, laden down with two loaves of freshly baked bread and the appetizer de jour, some kind of delicious flat bread covered with interesting veggies that I was unable to identify but tasted wonderful. Andrea popped it into the microwave to heat up and never missed a beat flipping the chicken fillets and stirring the piccata sauce. I had to get my camera to document the scene with the steam rising from all the pans and my daughter (my daughter?) calmly presiding over the entire business between sips from her wine glass.
I know I sound like a proud mother, but the dinner was marvelous, the wine flowed, and the company was great. These are all interesting women from varying backgrounds, both business and cultural. I enjoy talking to them and listening to what they have to say. Doreen, a transplanted Brit and recently retired business owner, just installed an English garden at her townhome. Bernice, an IT marketing specialist in her business life, brought over samples of the beautiful beaded jewelry she has been making in her spare time, and Linda Joy, a banking executive and certified Master Gardener, hauled in enough mature iris plants from her garden to distribute some to each of the women.
Lest you think I never entertain in my own home, I love having company for drinks and hors d’oeuvres. I set up a stunning cheese platter and know how to purchase a great dip. My bar is stocked with the best vodka and scotch and some really interesting wines. There’s even some designer beer in the fridge.
After that, as the pillow on my den couch so aptly puts it, “The one thing I make for dinner is a reservation.” Bon appétit!
# # # #
Photo caption: Chef Andrea at work!
Mom's eggo waffles with warmed strawberries and syrup is to die for. Of course, a trained chimp could make it but things always taste better when your mother makes them.
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