Sunday, April 23, 2006
more april observations
more april observations
One reason why I had always thought that I was well suited for the “house in southern France” idea (or in Italy – take your pick) is because I think I’d do well in the area of hospitality. Not so much the kind where everyone is suddenly a close friend and writes you that they’re on the way for a lengthy visit (as recounted by the infamous Peter Mayle), but the kind where on a warm evening (and because it is the south, there would be many such warm evenings) friends and neighbors would be welcome to congregate around my table, conveniently positioned outdoors under maybe a grape trellis or by a pear orchard. Not unlike this orchard, with tall grasses and budding branches, only this one is just outside Madison:
April orchard
In my dreamy images, I would not necessarily have to cook – people would bring stuff – but it would be at my table and I would freely pour wine and I would happlily dust off surfaces and light candles and wash linens. Indeed, I’d look forward to setting the table. Not unlike this one, only this one is at the loft, on a lovely April Saturday evening:
April evening at the loft
When a bunch of bloggers and assorted others put together a birthday dinner for me at the loft last night, I must admit, heaven could not have invented a better set up. I cooked nothing and barely touched a dish cloth. They did it all. I’ll step back from text and let a few photos describe the night. I did fail to catch the Kodak moment when someone at the table said “oh, look, Tonya is on fire! Do something!” In the heat of the moment my hand left the camera. Tonya herself received nary a singe, though she did admit to having felt a touch warm when leaving the stove. I suppose we should all pay attention to what our bodies tell us.
One last comment. I had wanted to do the noble thing and tell people not to bring gifts, especially since they were already providing food and drinks. I apologize for my utter piggishness in not stating that. But when each and every gift then turns out to be a gem of thoughtfulness, this does not increase one’s motivation to do the gallant thing in the future.
I can only say thank you, here, on Ocean. Especially to the author of the Tonya Show, who spearheaded the entire evening and cooked up a storm for it. What a fantastic pack of friends these guys are! No, really, you have no idea.
the work of others
the labor of Columnist Manifesto's "B"
start with Bozzo-Lee savory cheesecake and Tonya Show margaritas
Tonya Show first course
Tonya Show Moroccan chicken
Althouse cake
happy Ocean author
"tiny thoughts" and soon-to-be tiny one, finger-licking good
Althouse at dusk
Marginal Utility and company
The Tonya Show: mastermind behind the event
Ocean author: the last puff. It's chocolate. Really.
One reason why I had always thought that I was well suited for the “house in southern France” idea (or in Italy – take your pick) is because I think I’d do well in the area of hospitality. Not so much the kind where everyone is suddenly a close friend and writes you that they’re on the way for a lengthy visit (as recounted by the infamous Peter Mayle), but the kind where on a warm evening (and because it is the south, there would be many such warm evenings) friends and neighbors would be welcome to congregate around my table, conveniently positioned outdoors under maybe a grape trellis or by a pear orchard. Not unlike this orchard, with tall grasses and budding branches, only this one is just outside Madison:
April orchard
In my dreamy images, I would not necessarily have to cook – people would bring stuff – but it would be at my table and I would freely pour wine and I would happlily dust off surfaces and light candles and wash linens. Indeed, I’d look forward to setting the table. Not unlike this one, only this one is at the loft, on a lovely April Saturday evening:
April evening at the loft
When a bunch of bloggers and assorted others put together a birthday dinner for me at the loft last night, I must admit, heaven could not have invented a better set up. I cooked nothing and barely touched a dish cloth. They did it all. I’ll step back from text and let a few photos describe the night. I did fail to catch the Kodak moment when someone at the table said “oh, look, Tonya is on fire! Do something!” In the heat of the moment my hand left the camera. Tonya herself received nary a singe, though she did admit to having felt a touch warm when leaving the stove. I suppose we should all pay attention to what our bodies tell us.
One last comment. I had wanted to do the noble thing and tell people not to bring gifts, especially since they were already providing food and drinks. I apologize for my utter piggishness in not stating that. But when each and every gift then turns out to be a gem of thoughtfulness, this does not increase one’s motivation to do the gallant thing in the future.
I can only say thank you, here, on Ocean. Especially to the author of the Tonya Show, who spearheaded the entire evening and cooked up a storm for it. What a fantastic pack of friends these guys are! No, really, you have no idea.
the work of others
the labor of Columnist Manifesto's "B"
start with Bozzo-Lee savory cheesecake and Tonya Show margaritas
Tonya Show first course
Tonya Show Moroccan chicken
Althouse cake
happy Ocean author
"tiny thoughts" and soon-to-be tiny one, finger-licking good
Althouse at dusk
Marginal Utility and company
The Tonya Show: mastermind behind the event
Ocean author: the last puff. It's chocolate. Really.
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What an extraordinary birthday party! You are so lucky to have such amazing and thoughtful friends! Happy belated Birthday to you! :)
ReplyDeleteJust a small note also to say that you can find the same sensibility of hospitality in the southern US. It's a shame that it's not more widely known, but exactly what you described happens in towns all over the South. But maybe I'm a bit more defensive about it because I've just come from there and I'm still homesick!
What does a savory cheesecake taste like?
ReplyDeleteShall I now have to start pestering Tonya for recipes, too? No, no -- I won't be a pest, I promise. That all looks so lovely!
ReplyDeleteIt looks like a perfect evening. (Glad to hear that Tonya was not singed.) How wonderful for you!
vivi: yes, you are so right. Northern types hide inside and lock doors. In the winter, it's too cold, in the summer it's too buggy. Basically you're screwed. True, Midwesterners are way friendlier than, say, bicoastal types (with the exception of chuck b.!), but those outdoor meals late into the night just aren't happening, so far as I can see.
ReplyDeletechuck b.: Take out the sugar, add herbs and spicy stuff, I think. Really good.
joan: pester Tonya. She likes being pestered, right Tonya? And she delivers. For example, tonight she delivered a CD she made for a winner of one her blog contests. True, the person won maybe a year ago, but still, the prize made its way from point A to B.
What a fun night! We really should start celebrating our half-birthdays (in addition to our actual birthdays) just to have more excuses to gather over a good meal.
ReplyDeleteJoan: Most of my favorite recipes are from The Silver Palate Cookbook. The chicken dish is called Chicken Marbella and the recipe is available online at the following link:
http://www.recipelink.com/ch/2000/
february/silverpalate2.html
Enjoy!
For your friend Tonya, a suggestion: my birthday's mid-January. So I also celebrate my (ha!) 'conception' day — which I reckon to be April 17. Try it (yours, not mine) — it's fun.
ReplyDeleteLili
Happy belated birthday, Nina! Looks like you had a spectacular time! What a great group of friends - you are rich, indeed.
ReplyDeleteOh, and what an exquisitely sliced Althouse cake! The bakery must have done that. Normal people can't do that.
ReplyDeletethat is the cutest little party! those are my favorite kind.
ReplyDelete