Stories

My mom went to San Francisco to visit my brother last week, and she brought home some amaaaazing fresh pasta that she got in the Ferry Building. When I get my hands on really nice pasta, I like to do something simple with it, usually just olive oil and parmesan.

Last night, I decided to step outside of my comfort zone and try a brown butter sage sauce…and it came out beautifully!

I didn’t really get this recipe from any one place, I’ve just read about how to make it many times. It’s simple; just brown the butter and add the sage!

It seems a little scary, because everyone’s like, “Don’t burn the butter!!!” As long as you keep your flame low, you should be fine….and if you do burn it, it’s just a few tablespoons of butter and you can start over!

I was going to be one of those mothers who never allowed their children to watch anything on television, aside from the occasional educational program about stars, or baby possums, or how All People Are Good. It was an idyllic, wholesome vision that was completely shattered around the time I discovered that the only way I could take a shower or make a phone call was to put the baby in front of Teletubbies for 15 or 20 minutes.

The shattered bits were ground into a fine powder with the arrival of my stepdaughter, who could, at the age of 7, recite the entire plot of every episode of “Rugrats” with barely a pause for inhalation. We were a TV family. The only saving grace was that Sam really, genuinely hated most little kids’ shows (particularly Barney) and preferred to watch videos in which two dynamic types named Dave and Judy rode helicopters, trains and fire engines. But I digress.

No story, memoir, recipe or review here…just a list.  My food list.  There are certainly a few people who won’t understand this, like those who don’t wake up thinking about what they’re going to eat that day or the unfortunate man I once met who had no sense of taste or smell.  But if you’re reading One for the Table, you’re undoubtedly a foodie, bon vivant, epicure, connoisseur, gastronome, gourmet, gourmand, grazer or nosher – and you will understand.


First food I ever loved:
Gerber baby butternut squash

Favorite dishes my mother used to make:
Breaded veal cutlets
Spaghetti with her homemade meat sauce
Fry beef sandwiches (the kosher answer to a BLT)
Mac and cheese (yup, made with Velveeta)

Food I disliked as a kid and love as an adult:
Beets

Food I loved as a kid and dislike as an adult:
Lamb

Two foods I love that I wish I could live without…but can’t:
Cheese & Bread

A few days before my birthday, a picnic table arrived in our yard, carted down the driveway in Roy’s truck. Roy held out for as long as he could, swearing he was not going to pay money for a picnic table when he could build one for much less, or better yet, build us a really lovely outdoor dining table. I know he was disappointed not to have the time to do it this summer, but at least he didn’t leave us without something to sit around for the birthday gathering.

We positioned the table under the shade of the giant maple, which just happens to be about halfway between the back door and the garden gate—the path we travel most often. We intended to move the table after the party, since it’s in the way of the rope swing. But it seems to be settling in, letting us know it’s happy where it is—and happy to do for us whatever we need. Oddly enough, it’s as if the table was always meant to be here, as if the backyard beckoned it to come complete our outdoor living room. (The grill is right nearby, too.)