The Taste of (Old) Friendship
What friendship tastes like.
Tomatoes, apparently.
I spent the better part of this week regrouping after getting away for five nights with my college crew. And while the six of us (two of our gang could not make it due to covid concerns) did go for walks (and some jogged) and a bike ride (into town for bloodies), the majority of our time together was spent talking about food, preparing food and then actually eating the food. What this shows is that, despite the swanky Martha's Vineyard backdrop, our gang hasn't changed much from the days wearing sweats in the sorority house. We'd gather in the kitchen after a rough night out to slather cream cheese on a toasted bagel half and then melt Swiss cheese on top. Last weekend we stayed in the lovely home belonging to one gal in our group and we stood around her big kitchen island and sank our teeth into that old standby -- much as we have every other time we've gotten together over the last 30+ years -- although this time most of us included a luscious slice of ripe late summer tomato. I don't even like tomatoes that much, but there's something magical about those September tomatoes on Martha's Vineyard, the ruby red insides when you slice into the big beefsteaks.
I got to start the fun early when two of our crew drove up from Northern Virginia and Baltimore respectively to stay with me in NJ for the night before heading to Martha's Vineyard to meet up with the rest of our group. I grilled us some chicken breasts using a marinade that my friend Kim says was a staple of her mom's for years and now even her son makes it all the time (Ken's "Simply Vinaigrette" Caesar dressing + dollop of Dijon + bunch of shakes of soy sauce). Slice the chicken and put on a plate and pour a little marinade you set aside. Sensing all the eating that awaited us, I tried to keep things light by serving the chicken with some Charlie Bird Farro Salad, which cooks the grain in apple cider (if you have it) and mix in thinly sliced radishes, halved cherry tomatoes and big handfuls of arugula. But what I think sets this dish apart is the crunch you get from the toasted pistachios.
We arrived on MV to discover our hostess had made the Charlie Bird the night before for her own dinner and whose leftovers we grazed on all weekend. We bought a bagful of those fat tomatoes at the farmer's market down the road from the house to make what has quickly become our dinner tradition: Tomato Pie. The ingredients don't make sense: pre-made pie crust, cheese and mayonnaise. And yet when you layer them all with the chunks of tomatoes and bake until the cheesy top browns, it is the most delicious summer meal. Last year, we set a beautiful table outside near the pool and overlooking a pond on the other side of a split rail fence and we sat around marveling at how delicious it all was and how lucky we were and I swear, that's what friendship tastes like.
We made a second meal this year, ripping into big local lobsters and dipping their sweet meat into little metal bowls of melted butter. Our West Coast outlier -- the same one who introduced us to the Tomato Pie the year before -- put together an eggplant parm that had layers of lightly sauteed eggplant (no breading) with doctored jars of tomato sauce (this was vacation after all) and mozzarella. This was washed down with a crisp white Burgundy and chased with many Trader Joe's dark peanut butter cups.
There were BLTs using those juicy tomatoes and some life-changing thick bacon on a homemade sourdough bread from a place called Morning Glory Farm that sounds like the kind of place where everything tastes like it's been sprinkled with magic dust. I discovered a new lemon/dill hummus that I tried to just scoop up with sliced cucumbers and avoid the Trader Joe's pita chips nearby. And all the while, spread around the kitchen island, we swapped recipes and asked about kids and parents and retold stories we'd laughed about a million times, still shaking our heads at the ridiculousness of our younger selves.
We took a van out to dinner one night on the other side of the island and as we drove across a long road, surrounded on both sides by water, the sky off to the left had a thin strip of pink right above the water's surface and a sliver of moon hung in the darkening sky above. The girls in the van chattered and I looked out the window and thought about all we had gone together as a group -- the loss of parents, children, husbands, divorces -- a van load of heartbreak and hope on our way to eat again.
xoAmy
Friday Faves
Not to be a nut, but I'm already thinking about how I want to decorate the outside of my house for the holidays. My sister, Meghan, talked me into buying these fabulous lit twig orbs from Terrain and I think they are too cute to hold onto until December so look out neighbors, Christmas is coming early to the hood!
My Martha's Vineyard friend had this cookbook on her kitchen counter and I spent some time leafing through a ooohing and aahing over every recipe with another pal and came home a promptly bought it for myself. Thinking about making the Chicken Thighs with Mustard Sauce this weekend.
Want to know why I'm so into talking/thinking/writing about food lately? I think it has something to do with just finishing this fabulous memoir. Can't wait to read or listen to another by her.
Here's something that's NOT a fave: the new "Ratched" on Netflix. I can't with all the gore and weird sex stuff of the whole Ryan Murphy genre. I made it though four of the eight episodes and had enough. Am going to start reading the new Elena Ferrante book and watch tonight's "Father of the Bride" reunion to cleanse my culture intake palate.