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One Rainy Night
November 2005
On a very rainy Saturday
night in October, I was in a warm kitchen in an old, charming house
in Boston with a dozen 30 to 40 something year old women all excited
about the 5 course gourmet meal they would soon learn how to prepare
and share with old friends. Some lived nearby, others traveled far
to attend a special evening in which the hostess had hired me to
give her and her friends a cooking class/dinner party. It was
intended as a gift to her best friends to commemorate their
friendship.
The night began at 7 pm with a first course of sautéed wild
mushrooms served over fresh arugula, topped with pan seared sea
scallops, and continued until after midnight when we gathered around
the kitchen island spooning mouthfuls of vanilla ice cream topped
with sliced peaches sautéed in peach schnapps—which we did as
enthusiastically as we had the previous four courses. In between it
all we talked, laughed and shared numerous stories, heartaches and
victories.
Cindy, the hostess got so carried away with the flow of the courses
and conversation that at the end of the night, her only lament was
that she had forgotten to formally toast her dear friends to tell
them how special they all are. I think they knew. It was hard not to
notice the bond these women shared. It was as palatable as the penne
tossed in a sun dried tomato pesto we had for our pasta course.
For me, the evening reaffirmed what I've know for a long time; that
there's nothing like a good meal, drawn out over the course of hours
when food can be savored, friendships nourished and all could
partake in the art of meaningful conversation. It's evenings spent
just this way that I most remember about growing up in a big Italian
family. It's the times when our family dining table was joined by
neighbors or relatives, when the food never seemed to stop and
neither did the storytelling. Both my parents were terrific cooks
and we were the house everyone gathered at. Now that my parents, and
most of my aunts and uncles have passed, these are the memories that
brings them back to me— even if just for a few moments. The Master
Card people—and my parents—got it right. It's the simple things that
are priceless.
So what did we have for the other two courses? You'll just have to
go to recipes to find out.
If any of you are interested in organizing you own style of cooking
class/dinner party, check out my
cooking classes page for more information.
Chef Silvia
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