As some of you may recall, when I started on the swap, I was newly married and had no idea how to cook. Over time, I think Pat sent me a good chunk of her recipe file, and I muddled through. The marriage didn't stick, though I'm proud to say, 15 years later, he and I are still good friends. What outlasted nearly everything was my passion for cooking, and this group that has been my culinary north star.
It's amazing how things have changed. Through my blog and a few other chance connections, things are very different now. I still feel like that newlywed who didn't know how to cook rice, and yet, I find myself rubbing elbows with some of the most notable people in the food business. It still blows my mind.
Last week my friend Renee invited me and a few friends over for dinner. Renee is the former owner of Sur La Table and she has a drool-worthy kitchen that puts Architectural Digest to shame. Two refrigerators, under the cabinet chilling drawers, two walk-in pantries (one for china and carefully polished silver), another for "junk" - filled with everything from butter warmers for 12 to pantry stockers like preserved lemons and papadums. An in-kitchen floor to ceiling bookshelf is well curated and stocked with the classics. There is not one but two 10 foot-long marble topped islands and underneath are open drawers so everything you need is clearly visible. Another, every day china cabinet also runs floor to ceiling and is glass-fronted and illuminated. It's clearly a kitchen built for entertaining and most everything is visible and within reach.
She's close friends with chef Joanne Weir, who was in town on tour for her latest book, Kitchen Gypsy. We decided to do a potluck based on Joanne's book. I arrived a bit early, and when Joanne came in the room, she was just like she is on TV, warm and engaging. Without thinking, I went to hug her hello.
The weather was awful (we've had history breaking rainfall), and the rest of the guests arrived over the next hour. Looking back, it was intended to be a bunch of bloggers, but it turned out to be pros who happened to have blogs. In addition to their dish, they all brought something special that was a reflection of them and their work.
Joanne made a couple dishes from her book. It has a heavy storytelling component, and she elaborated on the stories even more.
Cynthia Nims has authored 15 cookbooks and brought her latest, which isn't released yet. (Oysters: Bringing Home a Taste of the Sea. Amazon says it will be out mid-January.)
Kathleen Flinn, author of the best selling The Sharper Your Knife, The Less You Cry, interviewed Joanne for a podcast earlier in the day (also not released yet). As a gift, she brought a copy of her latest book, a memoir called Burnt Toast Makes You Sing Good. Kat's also a strong advocate for changing the food systems and is currently working on a documentary with director Michael Moore.
Jason Price is a journalist who writes about food and has a pet passion for charcuterie. Last year he spent two weeks at The Fatted Calf and has been writing and interviewing some of the best chefs in the business. He brought home cured culatello.
Nancy is a marketing and event manager for a local winery, Efeste, and brought a range of wines to go with our dinner.
Sara used to run the charitable foundation for a major league baseball player and now runs a women in finance initiative for a major financial institution and their West Coast giving initiative. She's also a terrific home cook and one of my dearest friends (moral support!)
Renee's husband poured stiff drinks, and got the conversation rolling. While we were there for Joanne, I was distracted by the home owner's fabulous art collection. Blown glass, lots of modern art, and over-sized original oil paintings that took up most of the wall space. Most homes can't accommodate art that large, and yet every room had something big and bold.
More than once, I thought, "How did I get here?" Then Joanne would launch into a story about working with Alice Waters, or she and Renee would share a tale from their travels abroad....
It's just surreal. I remember growing up in Peoria, which felt like the middle of nowhere, surrounded by corn fields. My mom would pour over the Sur La Table catalog. It was her lifeline into a world she could only dream about, and yet, somehow, I ended up at this dinner party. Crazy.
I called my mom the very next morning (after my hangover subsided.) smileys/smile.gif
It's amazing how things have changed. Through my blog and a few other chance connections, things are very different now. I still feel like that newlywed who didn't know how to cook rice, and yet, I find myself rubbing elbows with some of the most notable people in the food business. It still blows my mind.
Last week my friend Renee invited me and a few friends over for dinner. Renee is the former owner of Sur La Table and she has a drool-worthy kitchen that puts Architectural Digest to shame. Two refrigerators, under the cabinet chilling drawers, two walk-in pantries (one for china and carefully polished silver), another for "junk" - filled with everything from butter warmers for 12 to pantry stockers like preserved lemons and papadums. An in-kitchen floor to ceiling bookshelf is well curated and stocked with the classics. There is not one but two 10 foot-long marble topped islands and underneath are open drawers so everything you need is clearly visible. Another, every day china cabinet also runs floor to ceiling and is glass-fronted and illuminated. It's clearly a kitchen built for entertaining and most everything is visible and within reach.
She's close friends with chef Joanne Weir, who was in town on tour for her latest book, Kitchen Gypsy. We decided to do a potluck based on Joanne's book. I arrived a bit early, and when Joanne came in the room, she was just like she is on TV, warm and engaging. Without thinking, I went to hug her hello.
The weather was awful (we've had history breaking rainfall), and the rest of the guests arrived over the next hour. Looking back, it was intended to be a bunch of bloggers, but it turned out to be pros who happened to have blogs. In addition to their dish, they all brought something special that was a reflection of them and their work.
Joanne made a couple dishes from her book. It has a heavy storytelling component, and she elaborated on the stories even more.
Cynthia Nims has authored 15 cookbooks and brought her latest, which isn't released yet. (Oysters: Bringing Home a Taste of the Sea. Amazon says it will be out mid-January.)
Kathleen Flinn, author of the best selling The Sharper Your Knife, The Less You Cry, interviewed Joanne for a podcast earlier in the day (also not released yet). As a gift, she brought a copy of her latest book, a memoir called Burnt Toast Makes You Sing Good. Kat's also a strong advocate for changing the food systems and is currently working on a documentary with director Michael Moore.
Jason Price is a journalist who writes about food and has a pet passion for charcuterie. Last year he spent two weeks at The Fatted Calf and has been writing and interviewing some of the best chefs in the business. He brought home cured culatello.
Nancy is a marketing and event manager for a local winery, Efeste, and brought a range of wines to go with our dinner.
Sara used to run the charitable foundation for a major league baseball player and now runs a women in finance initiative for a major financial institution and their West Coast giving initiative. She's also a terrific home cook and one of my dearest friends (moral support!)
Renee's husband poured stiff drinks, and got the conversation rolling. While we were there for Joanne, I was distracted by the home owner's fabulous art collection. Blown glass, lots of modern art, and over-sized original oil paintings that took up most of the wall space. Most homes can't accommodate art that large, and yet every room had something big and bold.
More than once, I thought, "How did I get here?" Then Joanne would launch into a story about working with Alice Waters, or she and Renee would share a tale from their travels abroad....
It's just surreal. I remember growing up in Peoria, which felt like the middle of nowhere, surrounded by corn fields. My mom would pour over the Sur La Table catalog. It was her lifeline into a world she could only dream about, and yet, somehow, I ended up at this dinner party. Crazy.
I called my mom the very next morning (after my hangover subsided.) smileys/smile.gif