Food Ecstasy

I was asked last night at dinner, as I snapped away with my camera, if I was going to do another ‘Food Ecstasy' piece.

She was referring to my blog entry from NYC when I took pictures while eating at Union Square Café. I couldn’t help myself, I said. I love food.

It was beautiful, she said.

Funny, another friend of mine said, who wants to see your half eaten food?

The reality of the NYC photo was mid meal, I made Jeanine stop with her steak and put the silverware down. The cut of the meat, the perfectly medium rare center with the seared outside caught my eye. I thought it was stunning.

I subscribe to Gourmet mainly to drool over the photos. That and to read Ruth Reichl’s editorial essay. The recipes tend to be repeats with small new twists- I’ve been reading the magazine for almost twenty years. There's only so many ways to roast a turkey for the November issue.

The pictures, however, are always new.

Allan made dinner last night. Lemon chicken, pureed peas and couscous. I told the kids it was rice. If I said couscous, Ben and Zachary would not have even attempted it. Rice? Well, rice is rice, food for those who won’t eat food.




Jake, on the other hand, happily tried the peas. Fresh peas pureed with mint and cream, they were unexpectedly delicious. Allan was certain the recipe was a failure. They look very… mushy, he said.

I like mushy peas, Jeanine said.

Me too, Walter chimed in. Canned vegetables as comfort food- always mushy with nary a single vitamin left in them.

I hate peas. I’ve always hated peas. I will eat them if they are fresh and have a point- nutrition- but I hate peas. Allan’s peas were fabulous. The cream and butter made the dish creamy, not mushy, and the mint gave it a bright accent.

I liked my peas. Thank you, Allan.

For dessert, he made chocolate mousse. Huge bowls full of chocolate mousse. The boys couldn’t even finish theirs it was so rich. Ben sneered at the whipped cream.



What is this?

Fresh whipped cream, Walter said. Try it. It’s the real thing.

Ben tried it and frowned. No sugar. Tastes nasty.

BEN, I said firmly. I didn’t have to say anything else because the family rule is, when someone has cooked, you smile and say no thank you. You never call anything nasty.

Whatever, he said, scraping the whipped cream to the side.



It was a family night. The kids complained about and then finally did clear the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher. We discussed MCAS, homemade rolls and the excitement building about the end of the school year. Ben and I continued to push at each other and Jake, after describing how he liked the peas, too, rolled around in his chair. Zachary put his napkin over his face like a bank robber from the old west. Allan threatened to not take them to another nice restaurant, which was loudly cheered by the children.

He meant we’d ONLY take you to nice restaurants, I said.

The butter was passed when requested and not a single roll was leftover.

It wasn't a food ecstasy night. Too many children, no Chateau D’Yquem.

Not that I would ever pair D’Yquem with peas.

But it was a beautiful Mother’s Day dinner.