Category — Food

Forgive me this “Julie and Julia” moment (did anyone else want to slap the whine right out of Amy Adams’ character in that movie?), but I’m a wee bit obsessed with Julia Child right now.

I finally started reading her delightfully unpretentious memoir, “My Life in France,” and halfway through it, I am convinced that we would have been best friends had we been contemporaries. I’m almost ready to take the plunge and buy her intimidating classic, “Mastering the Art of French Cooking.” There are so many butter-based sauces in my future.

I love how she falls in love with Paris, one of my most favorite cities, when she and her husband Paul move there after World War II. I love how she falls in love with French food and cooking and how she describes every memorable meal in mouthwatering detail. And I love how she falls in love with Marseille when she and her husband move there after Paris, even though it is not as outwardly charming as Paris and is often accused of being dirty and dangerous.

This is how my friend Julia describes it:

Marseille’s hot noise was so different from Paris’s cool sophistication. To may of our northern-French friends it was terra incognita: they had never been here, and considered it a rough, rude, “southern” place. But it struck me as a rich broth of vigorous, emotional, uninhibited Life– a veritable “bouillabaisse of a city,” as Paul put it.

Yes. She is talking about Marseille, a gritty yet beautiful city that I really like, but she could be also be describing Naples or New Orleans. Vigorous, emotional, uninhibited. Eccentric, vibrant, exhilarating. Just the way I like my cities.

New Year’s Resolution #2: Try new recipes and host more dinner parties.

I already love to cook, and I cook a lot, but sometimes I get a little safe and predictable. Fish, pasta, stir-fry. Lather, rinse, repeat. Dinner parties push me to be bolder and more adventurous in the kitchen, and there is nothing better than enjoying a home-cooked, five-hour-plus feast (and many bottles of wine) with a group of friends.

Brian and I decided to get ambitious last weekend. We invited a bunch of people we know (and some we sort of know) over to our wee apartment for our very first Saturday night supper club. The concept is simple:

1. Send out an invitation to a bunch of people and accept the first 10 to 20 who can make it (we capped ours at 15 because there’s no way we could cram any more into our place), friends of friends and plus-ones more than welcome. Ask people to bring whatever they want to drink, a $20 donation and an empty belly.

2. Create a menu, preferably based on a theme (you know how we love themes). We were originally going to do a Carnival theme in time for Mardi Gras, but scheduling and procrastination got in the way, and it became a Lenten theme (Are you giving up something for Lent? Too bad! We’re probably serving it.).

3. Make the apartment presentable, cook like crazy, eat, drink and be merry!

I’ve been fascinated with supper clubs for a few years, after reading about underground versions in big cities and attending a delicious event thrown by The Ghetto Gourmet, a “wandering supper club” in San Francisco. I love the idea of taking a bunch of foodies– some friends and some strangers– and throwing them together at the same dinner table.

I had toyed with the idea of starting one here but always came up with excuses not to: we don’t really know that many people here, it sounds like a lot of work, what if no one wants to come, that sort of thing. Then Melia and Darren sent us a copy of Forking Fantastic! Put the Party Back in Dinner Party, written by two hilarious women who have been hosting Sunday night dinners twice a month for years in New York City. Their attitude is refreshingly unpretentious and approachable, their recipes and tips are great and their bottom-line message is: you can do this, so stop being a wuss and just give it a shot. That sealed the deal. We had to do this. Read this excerpt from their book and tell me you’re not inspired:

We do it because at every meal, our extended social community reknits itself in a fascinating way: The former priest turned calligraphy professor sits next to the design-school student; the hedge fund guy chats with the environmental activist. Neighbors drop by and meet people who live on the other side of the city. Sometimes they’re all crammed on a sofa together; sometimes they get to sprawl out in the yard and spot lightning bugs in the grass. But our “hungry kiddies” (as we’ve come to call them in our email invitations) always surprise us with their willingness to eat just about anything we throw at them and their enthusiasm for talking to whoever winds up sitting in the next chair. We know from experience: Some of the best friendships are forged around the dinner table– and in the kitchen.

Food, wine, community. These are the things that make me happiest. We had 10 people at our first supper club, and everyone had a blast (or they’re very good at faking it). The food was pretty darn good, the wine and mint juleps flowed generously and the guests got along swimmingly. It was a relaxed, decidedly un-fancy affair, with mismatched plates, plastic folding chairs and brown butcher paper in lieu of tablecloths. Martha Stewart would have had a heart attack, which means it was exactly my kind of party. I’m looking forward to making this a monthly affair, and I hope we’ll continue to have a fantastic mix of people and food.

Check out the complete menu and a few recipes here. Brian is going on a three-month deployment in a couple weeks, so we’ll have to wait a bit for another supper club event, but I’m already brainstorming ideas for the next theme. Suggestions?

Poor Dahlgren. This place already gets such a bad rap with the Navy folks that I feel like I’m kicking a lame puppy every time I mock it. I may have been too harsh when I called it “the armpit of the East Coast.” Yes, it is in the middle of frickin’ nowhere, 45 minutes away from civilization or a decent meal, but on the whole, Dahlgren has actually been pretty good to us.

Dinner in Colonial Beach

I’ll admit I’ve had some low moments where I desperately miss friends and family and basic social interaction, but they usually pass pretty quickly. Life is simple and pleasant here most of the time, and I decided to make a list of things I like about our Dahlgren existence so I can refer to it whenever I’m feeling like Debbie Downer.

1. Quality Time

Brian and I get two whole months together in the same place before our next forced separation, which is a huge deal. A week or two after we arrive in Hawaii, he’ll have to fly out to meet his ship for the last three months of its deployment. I’m determined to appreciate this time, because in another month, I will be longing for more evenings watching “NCIS” reruns together.

Oh no! That’s not Brian. I swear he’s just a friend. 

Check out our fancy digs: the office/living room/dining room

The first time we’ve gotten to unpack our suitcases in months

2.  Reunions

We have gotten to see so many of our friends and family members over the last few weeks. We spent Easter with Brian’s family and a few friends in Fairfax, went out with the crazy Woodson High gang in Arlington, camped and brewery toured with our favorite New Jerseyites in Rehoboth Beach, dined with Brian’s war buddy in Richmond, caught up with my grandparents in Laurel and tore up D.C. with old friends from both coasts. It’s rare that I get to spend this much time on the East Coast, and it’s a pretty incredible opportunity to see everyone before we take off again.

Getting into trouble with the Fairfax kids

Uncle Brian with two of his cutie-pie nephews

Aw, Lil Lisa sleeping off her Easter food coma

Yay, puzzles are fun!

We’re in Delaware

A-mazing camp breakfast of bacon, eggs and more bacon

California girls are a force to be reckoned with

Cynthia and Stu putting “Dancing With the Stars” to shame

Mini Camp RAD reunion!

3. Dinners

Sometimes I miss having dozens of options of where to eat, drink and be merry, but sometimes it’s nice to narrow those options. And when I say “narrow down,” I mean “eliminate.” There is no fabulous sushi restaurant down the road and no Reginelli’s to deliver take-out here, so we are forced to cook our own well-balanced meals like responsible adults. We have only two burners and a microwave, but we have managed to cook some pretty fabulous dinners: gnocchi with healthy-ish alfredo sauce and veggies, Spanish tortilla, shrimp stir-fry, even some Zatarain’s gumbo. Often our friends Heather and Amy join us, we open a bottle of wine and we make a party out of it.

Our luxurious kitchen 

Mmmm… tortilla

4. Books

Wait, what are these “books” you speak of? You mean the ones with the pages? That aren’t on a screen? I read and write things for a living, and I am ashamed to admit how infrequently I pick up an actual book these days. Since I have so little to do in the evenings here, I have had a lot more time and motivation to read. I picked up a stack of novels and short stories from the itty-bitty library on base, and I’ve been reading a few chapters every night. I’m almost done with “Tender is the Night” (partially inspired by the time Fitzgerald spent in Antibes Juan-les-Pins, where I went last October) and the second half of “Eat, Pray, Love” is next on my list. Reading feels like such a luxury after depriving myself for so long, and I am loving the indulgence.

Moral of the story: I’m pretty happy here; with the right people, some good food and a little bit of red wine, you can make anywhere fun.

I’m a little obsessed with food today because I’m a psychotic masochist and decided to deprive myself of it all day. No, I’m not going all Nicole Richie on you, nor have I been swayed by all the Facebook “Hey, fat bride, you’d better lose a few pounds or your future husband will stop loving you” ads. I just thought I’d try a “detox” diet for a couple days after the complete gluttony I embraced while friends visited throughout April and May. In the last week alone, I consumed a ginormous Port of Call burger, a Domilise’s fried shrimp po-boy, a Camellia Grill BLT and chocolate freeze, various Memorial Day BBQ treats and countless daiquiris, High Lifes and whiskey and cokes. I’m pretty sure if I challenged contestants on “The Biggest Loser” to an eating contest, I would kick some serious ass. And then pass out from overconsumption and malnutrition.

Thus, the detox, which Katie Ide appropriately defines as “just another word for ‘starvation.’ ” I read the book “French Women Don’t Get Fat” a few months ago and loved the cute little Parisian Mireille Guiliano’s approach to healthy living– reasonable portions, moderation, occasional indulgences, fresh foods in season, red wine every day and lots of walking. I support all of this. The only problem is that she recommends you start with a clean slate by detoxing and eating her “magical leek soup” for two days, which is really just onion-flavored water. Kaila and I gave this a good effort today, drinking the broth every two hours as directed and eating actual leeks when we really got hungry. Too bad neither of these things actually stopped us from being hungry. I’ve never done well with fasting (I almost passed out one Good Friday when I tried it) because it simultaneously makes me stupid and mean. By the middle of the afternoon, I found myself wandering aimlessly around the Tchoupitoulas Wal-Mart (since when do I go to Wal-Mart?), trying to remember why I was there and trying not to growl at the cheery greeters.

We threw in the towel tonight at dinnertime. Water is not food, I don’t care how many leeks you boil in it. Kaila and I made a delicious and healthy meal and paired it with a $6 Cabernet Sauvignon, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so thrilled to eat solid food. I got home and started reading all my cookbooks and reviewing the menu Brian and I chose for our reception at Mulate’s (making me hungry all over again).

Call brand open bar (beer, wine, liquor, plus hurricanes, Bloody Marys and margaritas)

Appetizers:
Mini po-boy sandwiches (half with no mayo at my request)
Broiled stuffed mushrooms
Bite-size catfish
Blackened alligator

Buffet dinner:
Crawfish etouffee
Red beans and rice
Chicken and sausage jambalaya
Vegetarian pasta

And I have recovered from my temporary insanity. I’m back to planning dinner while eating lunch… or salivating over a dinner I won’t eat for another eight months. Hallelujah.

Creative Commons image courtesy of austin tx’s Flickr page