Stories

dinnerparty1.jpgEvery once in a while, the stars align: a magical setting.  The flickering call and response of candlelight touches the senses.

The right group of friends.  Cool night breezes filled with laughter and conversations that run deep and late into the night.

And, of course, the food...the fancy, incredible food. The meal itself...love incarnate.  Blood Orange Martinis prepare our palates for miniature blintzes dolloped in salmon cream followed by sips of ice cold, luxury Dutch vodka.  Sautéed radicchio leaves wrap and lovingly showcase asparagus, prosciutto and cheese, while pairing well with fifteen year old French Champagne.

Endive from Belgium drizzled generously with a bright, white-balsamic vinaigrette, easily cradle pungent Danish blue cheese and crunchy, candied-pecans. Warm, crusty rolls begin to make their way around the table....still more French Champagne to enjoy.

Then, lobster done two ways....first bisqued, then tails stuffed with crab, lobster and buttery cream. The tails sit atop clouds of creamy Yukon Golds and saddle nicely with tender green beans doused in a warm bacon-shallot vinaigrette.

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shrimpspaghetti.jpgA friend who is a good cook complains, "I'm too busy to cook. I get home from work and tell my family let's go out or order in."

Personally I feel the same way. I'm very happy when I open the refrigerator and see take out containers filled with Vietnamese lemon grass chicken, broken rice and bbq pork chops with pickled cabbage.

But sooner or later I hunger for a home cooked meal. I crave freshly prepared comfort food. Most of the time I don't want to spend a lot of time in the kitchen, so I want an easy to make meal. Salads are easy to make, but so are pastas.

At our farmers market, one of the vendors has a good supply of fish. Just recently he started carrying shelled, deveined shrimp, big fat ones. I bought a couple of pounds for an easy to make Sunday dinner. Sauteed and tossed with pasta, they are delicious.

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turkey-guy.jpgOn Sundays, we stroll over to the farmers’ market along Columbus Avenue. It starts around the Museum of Natural History and meanders south a few blocks. The farmers set their stalls up on the sidewalk with their trucks parked along the avenue behind them.

It’s nice. All the healthy people are out shopping. I thought I’d pick up something fresh and farmy for dinner – maybe some turkey burgers from the turkey guy, some greens from the greens guy, some mushrooms from the mushroom guy – that kind of thing. Guy, by the way, being an all-encompassing term meaning human.

There are girl guys at the market, as well. The greens person had some bins on the table filled with various micro-greens that looked, frankly, fantastic. I asked for a taste of the sunflower and he fished out a single little sprout with his tongs and dropped it in my hand – delicious, as fresh as spring, succulent and sassy. I stuffed a couple of handfuls into a bag and a couple handfuls of the micro-buckwheat into another and handed them to the guy to weigh.

“That’ll be twenty-seven dollars.”

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brussels-sprouts-and-wild-rice-024Many would say the only way to prepare Brussels sprouts, the cruciferous vegetables that look like a miniature cabbage, is to roast them. I do love the ease of preparing roasted Brussels sprouts. The nutty flavor they develop in a hot oven is magnificent. But, there is another way to prepare the little green sprouts that offers wonderful flavor and crisp texture.

I’ve discovered that by slicing Brussels sprouts into thin ribbons, they can be stir-fried with other vegetables.

A little time with your chef’s knife is all it takes to prepare the sprouts for stirring up in a hot pan with onions, peppers and garlic. Add some honey and vinegar for a sweet and sour flavor. Then, just stir in some cooked wild rice. Viola!

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weddinginvite.jpgI am at That Age. The age when once every couple of weeks, you check your post mail and instead of a bill (yes, I still use the United States Postal Service to pay my bills) or the 1,000th solicitation from Doctors Without Borders you've received that week, you have a real letter. Or, at least what looks like a letter - it's got a handwritten, maybe even calligraphied address and a return label with the name of your friend or... wait... the name of the parents of your friend...

I am at The Wedding Invitation Age.

Full disclosure, I'm actually a little behind the times. I'm among that "Creative Class" where people are either too poor, too career-focused, too gay, or too anti-establishment to marry in the "typical" mid-20s. But, at 30, I have finally arrived.

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