The Visible Woman...April 10, 2003

cooking

My focus today is entertaining my two buddies who are coming over to cook lunch. I'll set the table, chop or clean, pick and serve a wine and clean up the kitchen. This is an extension of an activity my friend Allan and I call 'ladies who lunch.' Not that any real ladies are involved (he nor I). No, the reference is to the ladies who have always lunched when we worked. We saw them in restaurants and hurried back to our jobs. They might begin dining at 1pm. Or start early and still be chatting at 2. In this spirit, Allan and I have gone to various restaurants and had tea at Westwood Country Club. Today, he's decided to go to Central Market, buy a bunch of stuff and, armed with recipes and old balsamic vinegar and other condiments from his apartment, cook for us. He has brought another understudy, Greg, a guy who worked for Dell for thirteen years and then got layed off. Greg has been lunching with Allan in the spirit of LwL, but we have only met at a dinner party at Allan's.

The handyman shows up and begins banging around. There is a rotten fascia board around back and places that need painting. There is the matter of fixing the sheetrock damage from the leak we had the other day.

To prepare, I go to the club and do forty-five minutes on the bike reading Geography of Saints.

To further prepare, I set the table. I find a tablecloth that will pass muster without ironing, pick out napkins, utensils and dishes. Meanwhile I'm called on to comment on the painting and repair and future projects around the house for the handyman. (Power washing the outdoor stairs, putting a permanent roof on the pergola.) Fortunately, Allan is running a little late and by the time he and Greg arrive, the handman has pulled the ladder and drop cloth from in front of the door and gone to return another day.

We wash mussels, clean shrimp, start sauces, wash spring mix and parsley. Allan chops and stirs. Greg stirs. We have mussels in a white wine sauce, spring salad with exotic tomatoes in a whole grain mustard/balsamic vinegar dressing, shrimp in a lemon cream sauce with risotto. All while sipping a 1996 Newton Unfiltered Chardonnay. We tour the yard (so much work is still needed!) and then have a dessert of these wonderful red-skinned pears (variety? I don't know) and cheese.

Washing up is non-trivial but not exacting. I put in a wash of the cloth (I spilt a bit of wine and some mussel juice...the boys were neater) and the napkins from my Monday event and napkins and dish clothes and a few of our clothes. I rinse pans and take out the garbage, rinse all the dishes, take a break, wash up some, dry up some, etc. Until it's done.

FFP and I are planning a dinner at Zoot. We have been phoning about wine and food pairings. We decide to go down there and eat. FFP has been too busy working to pig out with me and my companions. So he is actually hungry.

Zoot has remodeled, inside and out. The place looks great but 'our' table is gone and we can't decide where to sit. We finally decide on a two top at the banquette. We decide that we can join it to another two if we have guests. This isn't really satisfactory, though. FFP says the banquette is comfy (the chairs aren't) but there is no place for our magazines. Our old table was a four and we usually got it even when we were two. We have a nice meal. FFP has some scallops:

and sweetbreads. I have a foie gras and (purple) potato terrine:

and duck confit crêpes (another app). We each have a glass of Pinot that Mark recommended, I've forgotten what it was but tasty. I like the remodel. (Except for not knowing where to sit.) They've used a lot of gray and grayish green with white and red accents and these semi-opaque glass panels that I like. It works. They have made the wine bar back into a wine bar and gotten rid of the actual stone bar with the lighting. A shame, that, but they were clearning space. They have made more space. I wish I had a nickel for every $10,000 spent remodeling restaurants. It's hard to see how they get a return on it.

I talk to Dad every day. Today I told him about a rate we could get for his CD at another bank and told him to come over tomorrow and we would move the money.

FFP was very busy with his business today. He allowed as how he is going to enlist me to do some spreadsheets and other paper work. I'm happy to do it. I've done everything he asked in that regard. I don't mind doing chores or helping him. It's getting a real job that I don't want to do again.

Bed, reading, dozing. CSI and Without a Trace fail to hold me any more. I may stop watching these shows. The crimes are too weird and fantastic. Or maybe that is just my hope.

my friend Allan cooks in my kitchen

"How she plied her pretty arts,
How she laughed and sparkled then!
April, make love in our hearts
Spring again!"

Dorothy Parke, from Spring Song (in the expected manner)

JUST TYPING
Duty to pleasure.
Duty to life.
Duty to a living.
When you work, the boundaries are clear.
When you don't so fuzzy.

			cooking My focus today is entertaining my two buddies who are coming over to cook lunch. I'll set the table, chop or clean, pick and serve a wine and clean up the kitchen. This is an extension of an activity my friend Allan and I call 'ladies who lunch.' Not that any real ladies are involved (he nor I). No, the reference is to the ladies who have always lunched when we worked. We saw them in restaurants and hurried back to our jobs. They might begin dining at 1pm. Or start early and still be chatting at 2. In this spirit, Allan and I have gone to various restaurants and had tea at Westwood Country Club. Today, he's decided to go to Central Market, buy a bunch of stuff and, armed with recipes and old balsamic vinegar and other condiments from his apartment, cook for us. He has brought another understudy, Greg, a guy who worked for Dell for thirteen years and then got layed off. Greg has been lunching with Allan in the spirit of LwL, but we have only met at a dinner party at Allan's. The handyman shows up and begins banging around. There is a rotten fascia board around back and places that need painting. There is the matter of fixing the sheetrock damage from the leak we had the other day. To prepare, I go to the club and do forty-five minutes on the bike reading Geography of Saints. To further prepare, I set the table. I find a tablecloth that will pass muster without ironing, pick out napkins, utensils and dishes. Meanwhile I'm called on to comment on the painting and repair and future projects around the house for the handyman. (Power washing the outdoor stairs, putting a permanent roof on the pergola.) Fortunately, Allan is running a little late and by the time he and Greg arrive, the handman has pulled the ladder and drop cloth from in front of the door and gone to return another day. We wash mussels, clean shrimp, start sauces, wash spring mix and parsley. Allan chops and stirs. Greg stirs. We have mussels in a white wine sauce, spring salad with exotic tomatoes in a whole grain mustard/balsamic vinegar dressing, shrimp in a lemon cream sauce with risotto. All while sipping a 1996 Newton Unfiltered Chardonnay. We tour the yard (so much work is still needed!) and then have a dessert of these wonderful red-skinned pears (variety? I don't know) and cheese. Washing up is non-trivial but not exacting. I put in a wash of the cloth (I spilt a bit of wine and some mussel juice...the boys were neater) and the napkins from my Monday event and napkins and dish clothes and a few of our clothes. I rinse pans and take out the garbage, rinse all the dishes, take a break, wash up some, dry up some, etc. Until it's done. FFP and I are planning a dinner at Zoot. We have been phoning about wine and food pairings. We decide to go down there and eat. FFP has been too busy working to pig out with me and my companions. So he is actually hungry. Zoot has remodeled, inside and out. The place looks great but 'our' table is gone and we can't decide where to sit. We finally decide on a two top at the banquette. We decide that we can join it to another two if we have guests. This isn't really satisfactory, though. FFP says the banquette is comfy (the chairs aren't) but there is no place for our magazines. Our old table was a four and we usually got it even when we were two. We have a nice meal. FFP has some scallops: and sweetbreads. I have a foie gras and (purple) potato terrine: and duck confit crêpes (another app). We each have a glass of Pinot that Mark recommended, I've forgotten what it was but tasty. I like the remodel. (Except for not knowing where to sit.) They've used a lot of gray and grayish green with white and red accents and these semi-opaque glass panels that I like. It works. They have made the wine bar back into a wine bar and gotten rid of the actual stone bar with the lighting. A shame, that, but they were clearning space. They have made more space. I wish I had a nickel for every $10,000 spent remodeling restaurants. It's hard to see how they get a return on it. I talk to Dad every day. Today I told him about a rate we could get for his CD at another bank and told him to come over tomorrow and we would move the money. FFP was very busy with his business today. He allowed as how he is going to enlist me to do some spreadsheets and other paper work. I'm happy to do it. I've done everything he asked in that regard. I don't mind doing chores or helping him. It's getting a real job that I don't want to do again. Bed, reading, dozing. CSI and Without a Trace fail to hold me any more. I may stop watching these shows. The crimes are too weird and fantastic. Or maybe that is just my hope.

	my friend Allan cooks in my kitchen "How she plied her pretty arts, How she laughed and sparkled then! April, make love in our hearts Spring again!" Dorothy Parke, from Spring Song (in the expected manner)
	JUST TYPING Duty to pleasure. Duty to life. Duty to a living. When you work, the boundaries are clear. When you don't so fuzzy.

Thursday, April 10, 2003