Every night since Gigi died, Rob and I have suppered with his folks over at Tribal Headquarters, a block away. Two beloved out-of-town family members have been with us, and they have been spoiling us with great food, along with a handful of friends and neighbors who know that bringing over something delicious is one very nurturing way to care for the grieving. This has been doubly good for me, as I have been under the weather physically for the past three days; it's been nice sharing the bounty and having a break from cooking.
Tonight, we enjoyed the last of several wonderful family meals before one of our guests leaves tomorrow. This supper was the most beautiful and delicious and colorful of them all. First we et:
—Gary of the Tiaras' fresh figs stuffed with bleu cheese
—Aunt Jean’s red wine beet pasta
—her cheesy yellow squash casserole
—Gary's fruit salad made with honeydew, wild strawberries (red and white), lemon basil, mango, and lavender
—fresh garden tomatoes and cukes with basil and vinegar
—an exciting assortment of Pepperidge Farm cookies from the Parkers
AND then to finish the meal (and ourselves) off:
—Shenandoah’s chocolate orange cake with Grand Marnier ganache served with Breyer’s french vanilla ice cream plus Gary’s killer Costco chocolate Christmas truffle and dried cherry “sauce”
Then when none of us could stuff another bite in through our mouths, we stuffed more in through our eyes as we watched a tasty food movie: Mostly Martha. Do you sense a problem here?
But don't we look happy?
The master's touch.
The master's natural impulse.