cooking for friends: a different perspective

Dear Rae,

As I read about your current entertaining quota versus the “just two or three times during the entire three years [you] lived in Florida,” I could not help but feel a spook nudge up against the back of my neck and blow whooo at the backside of my ear. Though a nice apartment helps, may I propose that maybe the spike in the number of your meet-and-greet activities has less to do with the apartment per se, and much to do with local culture?

As you know, I spent last weekend in New York. Late last Saturday night—10:30ish—while wrapping things up at a wonderful gathering of people at one location, one person, without forethought, invited six adults and three small children to gather together at his apartment. This sort of impromptu entertaining is nonexistent in my current local social milieu.

At this second, smaller gathering of friends, I end up talking to someone, who upon learning that I live in Florida, says, Oh, my husband absolutely hates that place! He lived there for 7 months and it was awful. He won’t even go there for a vacation. Her husband’s former Florida residence is far south of Tallahassee and has a greater population than your “old stomping ground.” I was not overly surprised by the comments (I have my own issues), but I did want to find out why the husband found my native home state so unappealing.

I cornered the husband (nicely, calm down) and coaxed him into giving me his reasons. They mirrored my own “issues.” It is the people (behaviors and customs), not the place. Here, a good number of us seem to display similar behaviors: We go from home to work, work to home, stick closely to our husband/wife/children/girlfriend/boyfriend, watch television, talk about television programs, sports and pets, shop at Home Depot and spend our weekends maintaining our yards and our large homes. Oh, and the two-four-week vacation period is like a single shining star in a black sky blanketing a well-traversed desert. Outside of stressed-out, everything-must-be-perfect holiday cooking, when do we cook for friends?

Isolation, or distance from others, renders me a bit empty. Not lonely—just a portion of me not properly filled. If I am at home with myself or with the same beloved people for most of the 365 days of each year, how can I, as the cliché goes, broaden my horizons? If I entertain and allow myself to be entertained, along with my spouse (who has not yet found me), then I/we are doubly “broadened.” Toss my current social climate among memories of social climes of which I have been exposed, and you get a tricky little mix of thoughts all ending with resigned awareness of being caught by the inertia of place.

Do you think that people in Tallinn have fewer behaviors to maintain (lawns to mow and tend, big houses to clean and decorate, television viewing, shopping and driving time), and therefore have more time to spend with others? Do they seem to value friendships nurtured the old-fashioned way—through the tummy? And through cheerful chat?

This is probably far more of an answer than you wanted (especially all the questions), but, given the timing of your letter and my meeting with an anti-Florida friend, I could not help myself. By the way, as my new friend was leaving the apartment, I placed a hand on his shoulder and asked him to please make peace with Florida. I got a good laugh out of him; maybe he and his wife will come down sometime.

Before closing, I thought I would add that when I got home late Monday night, the only fresh ingredients I had on hand was this red pepper and some garlic.

I sliced the pretty red pepper in half and placed it under a pre-heated broiler. I broiled the two pieces until their skins blackened. Then I took them out of the broiler and placed them on a wire rack for cooling. Once touchable, off came their blackened skins. I tossed the pepper in a blender with 3/4 cup of water and blended until smooth.

I heated 2 tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil in a pan and sautéed 3 minced garlic cloves on med-low heat for 3 minutes. Next, I added the pepper puree, 1 teaspoon of crushed red pepper, salt to taste, and 2 tablespoons of plain yogurt. Finally, I reduced the heat and simmered the mixture for about 10 minutes. Since I had angel hair pasta on hand, I served the roasted red pepper sauce on a bed of it, with some dried basil sprinkled on top.

Tip: Do not eat a lot of Angel Hair with Roasted Red Pepper Sauce before falling asleep.

Hey, I am glad you are too busy these days to think about your old stomping (out of frustration?) ground. Keep up with the entertaining; only good things can come from it.

Cheers pal,

Toni

P.S. Two lines I remember from last weekend’s entertainment: 1.) People don’t move to New York to stay at home. 2.) The ‘whys’? That’s why we have philosophy.