The Impromptu Dinner

Today, Kim made dinner.

She's a traveling nurse who will be here for three or four months. This afternoon, she arrived laden with shopping bags from various stores in Bellevue.

The thing about living here is if someone is cooking and someone else walks past the kitchen, a dinner party is about to break out. The dinner that started out for two ended up dinner for six. And, boy howdy, it was just wonderful.

Ella Fitzgerald singing the Gershwin Songbook.

Everything fresh. Everything from scratch. Inspired. Delicious.

Pork Salsa Verde (slow cooked)

Refritos

Spanish rice

Fresh corn salsa

Pico de Gallo

Black bean salsa

Crumbled Mexican cheese

Corn Chips

Fresh corn tortillas

Red wine and sparkling pomegranate juice

 

At 4:00, we thought we would be eating on the back deck. By 6:00, it was too cold. The dining room table was cleared of my sit-upon project for Linsi's wedding reception; plates were placed, napkins folded, wine glasses filled and toasts all around.

What a lovely day.

Friends around the dinner table.

Leftovers

My friend Barb sent me home with a doggie bag of goodies from yesterday's Cinco De Mayo fest de mange. At about 6:30, I got everything out and started fixing the leftovers for dinner.

While I was filling all the bowls, I really had to laugh remembering a story a friend told me when I was in college. It's the famous "leftovers" story at her parents' home. Her father was an exec at Roman Meal bread in Tacoma. Her mother was used to entertaining corporate visitors in their wonderful custom Mid-century home overlooking the Narrows Bridge.

On one occasion, Ray called home late in the afternoon to say that a delegation of Japanese clients made an impromptu visit to the offices of Roman Meal and wanted to come to their home for dinner. "How soon" was the question. "In about an hour" was the shocking answer.

There wasn't time to go to the store.

When everyone arrived, the table was set with Jean's wonderful hand-throw pottery plates in the dining room with a view of the bridge. On the table were bowls and bowls of one wonderful thing after another. With yummy noises from every side of the table, the delegation tucked into their amazing dinner. Over coffee and desert, one of the Japanese visitors said, "That was so wonderful. What was it?" "Leftovers," deadpanned Jean.

The twist to the story is that every time the delegation came to Tacoma to meet with Ray at Roman Meal, they wanted to know if they could come over for "leftovers" again.

That about sums up Barb's refrigerator. One toothsome thing after another ready for a complete dinner or a midnight snack.

I didn't have to add much to finish off this meal. I whipped up some of my special fresh black bean salsa, bought some cilantro and sour cream, decanted all the wonderful things Barb had sent home with me into pretty bowls, got out my rectangular celadon plates, linen napkins and my Frank's Red Hot and voila ~ leftovers.

Delicious leftovers!

Refrigerators are really indicative of the people who live in the house. Barb's is full of everything required to make nearly every dish she might have in mind for the week. Mine is full of condiments: fresh bagels, cream cheese, capers, my smoked salmon, some Tillamook cheeses, Plochman's mustard, butter, whole milk. Not a single real meal in the whole ice box ~ except breakfast. I'm sure it says something about me; I'm just not sure what.

While I may not be able to whip up a meal at a moment's notice, I take comfort in this: Several years ago, I did a multi-year project for a Microsoft billionaire. He was famous for having a quart of freshly squeezed orange juice, 6 -8 different bottles of hand-crafted microbrews and half a dozen bottles of different mustards and nothing else in his refrigerator.

The refrigerator and leftovers. It's a mystery.

Day 26 Everyday Grateful ~  Ella Fitzgerald Singing

The Gershwin Songbook on the stereo,

the doors open to the back deck,

a sunny beautiful day.

Leftovers.

Thankful.

God, this girl can cook!

So, Ramses and I spent yesterday afternoon and evening with my friend, Barb ~ she of the tour de force meals complete with the menu posted on the refrigerator.






Ramses loves going over to his Auntie Barb and Uncle Rico's lake front house. He's crazy nuts about them both. During my campaign for Congress, I was on my way to the airport to go to a fundraiser in San Francisco or Washington, DC or New York or somesuch, when I got this total wave of worry. What will happen to Ramses if my plane crashes? Who will take care of him? The boys are not set up for this enormous hound. Will Ramses go to the pound? I was panic stricken. I immediately called Barb.

"If I die in a plane crash, please don't let Ramses go to the pound?"

"Jeez, Heid, you're not going to die in a plane crash! But, should you drop the hell dead, Ramses will come live with me. So, stop worrying. Go get on the plane. Go smile and raise some dough."

Great friends are so wonderful.

So, I got an email from Barb on Friday:

Hey Heid ~

It's a big eatin' day. Come over tomorrow so we can feast.

How about 3-ish?

Going to be sunny they say. Do we dare believe?

xoxoxo

B

Seared snapper tacos. Shrimp Fajitas. Pulled pork tacos.

Guacamole with fresh chips. Refried black beans.

Spanish Rice. A couple of different grated cheeses.

Fresh sliced limes. 

 Everything fresh. Everything homemade. Everything delicious!

And, feast we did. And, Ramses sneaked out

of the gate for a swim in the lake.

The perfect day for everyone ~

especially the 126# wet dog!

Day 25 Everyday Grateful ~ Andrea Marcovicci on the stereo,

clean sheets on the beds, sunny beautiful day. Thankful.

http://www.andreamarcovicci.com/