Gladys Taber loved to entertain, she wrote often of whipping up a spread for guests in no time. Somehow, she made washing up the dishes… the whole kitchen… sound like a chore of love. She was thoughtful and kept things frozen in anticipation of a gathering of friends and neighbors, she loved sharing meals with people. I on the other hand am in a bit of a social pitfall. There are strange transitions of being in and out of the company of others when everyone is living their own lives. Mine has recently consisted of throwing my own dinner parties.
For the love of a theme, that’s where I generally start. I decide what kind of mood I’m in on a Friday night: what kind of meats, what kinds of wine, if I’m going to lounge in linen or denim, big and flowy or simple and neat attire. I consider the things I miss, and the things I prefer to think about; sometimes solemn and sometimes festive. I might mix margaritas and make cilantro lime chicken, or dirty martinis with cheese and crackers. I use my glassware, and my vintage floral print napkins, I eat slow, I sit and cross my legs.
Last Tuesday I found myself missing the coast, a place of salt-healing and soul-settling. I bought a cheap bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and made crab cakes. They were perfect, honestly. I used lump crab meat, one large farm egg, bread crumbs, a scoop of mayo, lemon zest and lemon juice, and Cajun seasoning. I pan fried them in shallow avocado oil and then I made the sauce; I topped everything with more lemon juice and fresh cut parsley from my herb garden. I set a rickety table next to my fountain, and pretended to inhale the salt air of the ocean. As the sun set over my own dinner party, I savored the moment of quiet, and indulged in the sweetness of satisfying the senses.
If you read my last post you understand my love for beauty, and this was a beautiful meal. I finished it off listening to French café music, and the night was perfect.
The weekend was rainy, so an indoor event took place. I had a hearty meal of beans and beef topped with a bit of cheese and some cherry tomatoes. The fresh flowers are always left behind before my husband leaves town for work, nothing makes a dinner more special than a hand picked bouquet from a lover.
Sometimes it’s really a brunch that you’re wanting to plan, instead of dinner. This calls for the perfect bloody mary, and by perfect I mean adding salty snacks. A bloody mary can be a drink and a snack all together. This one featured turkey pepperoni, cheese, olives, celery, and a good lemon slice, all rubbed up against a seasoned salt rim. Next time I’ll make one even bigger, add a couple of cocktail shrimp or a fat slice of bacon?
Have yourself a little party for 1 this week if you’re alone, or make something special about just another meal. Choose a country, choose a culture, something nostalgic, bust out the charcoal grill and have you’re own block party, buy a watermelon. Think of me, and Gladys Taber, and all of the minds of wonder that you’re a part of too. Eat slow, sit and stare, feel the salt air enter your lungs, even if you’re in the desert.
email me, share your photos, I certainly can’t be the only one enjoying my own company.
Don’t forget that I do love to chat and love hearing from you, cheers!
justicesarah67@yaho.com
Garden update coming soon, I promises!
The Mint Patch Monologue 