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| Antipasto |
Saturday morning,
and I was reluctant to get up. Let Sophie out early and headed back to bed, but
she is ever quicker than I am, and we disagreed about who should get the warm
spot I’d just vacated. I won, and she pouted off to the living room. By 8:30 I
was browsing the news but reluctant to face the chores I’d laid out last night—cooking
chicken for tomorrow night’s casserole and making a batch of oatmeal/raisin
cookie dough, since Jacob said he loves those cookies.
About ten-thirty,
I took Jordan to meet a friend to watch the TCU/Baylor game—managed to avoid
the traffic jam by going back streets. Some will tell you I’m the queen of back
streets in south and west Fort Worth—my preferred routes, which always makes me
think of an older friend, many years ago, who tut-tutted at me that a straight
line was the shortest distance between two points. She didn’t think about
traffic jams and stoplights.
Back home I dug in
and spent the rest of the morning doing those chores—by one o’clock I had the
kitchen clean, cookie dough and cooked chicken in the fridge, and lunch eaten.
Prowled the New York Times Cooking Community Facebook page—what do you say to a
woman who begins a post with “I hate hamburger. So bland and tasteless,” and
then asks for recipes. I wouldn’t dare make a suggestion. Printed off a full
color picture of a charcuterie platter with all
the ingredients labeled—good guide for us sometime, since Jordan and I
loved to do those platters. And I even jotted down some good Christmas ideas
and found a bright red outfit I think I want. I reluctantly parted this fall with
the red plaid velvet shirt I’ve worn every Christmas Eve for years. Nap time!
Tonight, Jordan,
Christian, and I went to a lovely dinner
party to celebrate the seventieth birthday of the husband of my Canadian
daughter (explanation for those who don’t know: Sue and her two children, now
well grown but young then, lived next door to me for several years; she moved
on, bought a house, fell in love with a guy from California and enticed him to
Fort Worth; she calls me her Fort Worth mom because her mom is far away in
Ottawa, Ontario). We absolutely adore Teddy and were honored to be able to
celebrate with him. I'm only sorry we didn't get a picture of him. He did single me out as the only person in the room a year older than him, and I reminded him it's a bit more than one year.
Dinner was at Nonna Tata, a tiny charming restaurant that
serves country Italian food and seats at most 22—that’s how many there were
tonight. Wonderful food—antipasto, two
pasta dishes, salad, rosemary bread, chicken and capers in what seemed like a
yogurt sauce and was absolutely delicious, and an apple something for dessert. Great
food, twice as much as I needed, and that much wine too. Good company, and a
happy atmosphere. Lovely evening.
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