Sounds so simple written out like that... almost unfathomable now to think that it took all day to do these things.
My meals today were prepared by others. Anya made wheat pasta and added yellow squash, green pepper, and onion to her pre-made spaghetti sauce. After an appetizer of homemade bread (Anya and I both swear by our bread makers and bake our own bread every week) with Nutella, three women and a curly-haired child talked and chewed. Caro prepared a side of almond green beans and a summer soup made of tomatoes, onion, chickpeas, and spinach.
That also sounds simple... like the question, "What makes this noteworthy?" could more than likely come to mind.
I'm thinking tonight of what it's like at home. It doesn't matter who you are or how old you happen to be, you live somewhere that food is often prepared. In whatever form that is, occasionally you have to look at what you have in the fridge, in the pantry, in your cabinets, and just make food. I'll never forget the lecture my "Russian father" (this story is complicated... a different entry for a different day) gave to me about how one must know how to sustain one's self no matter what and that includes opening the cabinets and throwing stuff in a pan. While delivering said lecture, he threw together something that I'll never remember entirely... only that it had canned peas, corn, and something else and was pretty gross.
Either way, at home, this must be done by you, yourself, or whatever other brave soul decides to belly up to the stove and do a little better than throwing a freezer dinner in the microwave.
Both of the meals I had today remind me of this idea... of just needing to feed the people around you... which implies a certain warmth of comfort and family... Your family anticipates that these evenings will come up now and again. They don't expect you to be Jean-Pierre Poohbah and create something brilliant. This isn't a dinner party you've planned for a week and hoped that you would wow your boss, new friends, in-laws, etc. Instead, this is survival, sustenance, generosity...
While I recall the meals I had and could tell quite clearly what ingredients were involved (both were a VAST improvement, by the by, to the Russian canned goods casserole), what makes these among the best meals I've had all week is that family comfort quality. I was a part of a normal days in which people simply should be fed. At Anya's three gals gabbed about life, the boys we knew, the boys we wish we never knew, the ways life has changed, the life we hope to pass on to the next generation, etc. We generated a spontaneous talk about ourselves the way I might have back home after a week away at school or a summer abroad. With Caro, we discussed our families, our friends, our hopes, our favorite movies, some books, and the freaky things we liked as kids... specifically, Return to Oz starring Fairuza Balk.
from www.midnitesformaniacs.com Both of these mealtimes generate familiar feelings of sitting at home with Mom, Daddy, and my brothers... spontaneous talks about goofy movies, bad music, memories of dumb things past, and the ability to share my Mom's efforts in feeding us...
Though I'll spend time on Thursday discussing preparing things correctly, properly, with style, and with tasty improvisations or improvements, there's nothing like a thrown-together homemade meal made by someone else to inspire closeness and conversation with you.
I thank you, my friends, for making me feel at home.
And to update, Daddy seemd to like his stew... though the oohing and aahing was over my homemade ice cream...
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