Monday, February 14, 2011

Food is LOVE

I wish that you could be with me here as I write this. Bill is preparing a sumptuous dinner tonight. The smell of garlic permeates the air, my throat is presently being cooled by a smooth Bordeaux and Martin Bejerano's rendition of  Lover Man is playing in the background. Bill works best when he has an audience, but tonight he merely has an audience of one. But, I am a very appreciative audience.

Fajita night with Anthony, Tommy, Will and Jake.
Bill can be seen orchestrating.

Bill used to love cooking for Will and Emma's friends. He loves a party and just adores feeding a throng. And high school students were always appreciative of his talents. But, more than that, he loved talking to them and getting THEM to talk back. He would challenge them and make them laugh at his irreverence. This is a shout out to all of Emma and Will's friends from Nichols and beyond and especially to Tommy (our second son) and Jake and Dillon and Anthony. We LOVED having you here.  And, thank you to your parents for sharing you with us.

Bill's love of cooking goes back to before I was in the picture. He tells me that his mother was such a bad cook that he had to learn how to cook in order to survive. I'm not so sure she was that bad. She taught school for years and was probably too exhausted to put in too much effort. Bill jokes that she could burn a can of soup. I do remember having a pretty terrific Thanksgiving at their house (early in our marriage) so I knew she had it in her. I think she just made a conscious decision to not cook. Which is why Bill took it upon himself to excel at cooking.

Dinner club at the Savinos
He's not a pedestrian cook, either. He's a master at Italian cooking, but he's also pretty decent at Indian cooking. He blends his own garam masala and we have had more than one Indian food themed dinner party. I can remember before we were married he told me WE were hosting a dinner for 24. In his house. Never mind that the dining room table only sat 8 - we were going to triple that number. He'd cook and I could figure out the rest. He did  and I did and it was a great success. I remember people had to stay overnight - I think because they were paralyzed by the food.

So, tonight on Valentine's Day he is pulling out all the stops. Feeding me rapini (broccoli rabi) and chicken piccata. The master clock says there are 8 minutes left. Time enough for me to set a table for 2 and give him a big kiss.


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