Cooking is like love. It should be entered into with abandon or not at all. ~Harriet van Horne
We got out of the car tonight and they immediately pleaded “can we go to Doris and Kim’s house to say “hi?” Before I could answer Maria’s plea, she was standing in their yard moving towards the porch. Mario followed swiftly yelling his monkey scream “ew ew ah ah.” Doris had a few girlfriends over and she had out brie and crackers. The kids dove into the crackers and I scooped up the brie. Heaven. Doris is an amazing cook. Everything I taste of hers is remarkable. (Now, granted, this is coming from the woman who does not cook anything. But although I do not cook, I still know good food! )
Her dishes take you to another world. I am in Sicily or Florence or New Orleans or Paris. She needs to start her own business – she is made to live in the kitchen. She enters the cooking process with abandon. Her art is just too wonderful to be wasted anywhere else. Their kitchen was just renovated a couple of years ago, and it was a wise investment.
When we stopped at Doris and Kim’s tonight after an hour walk to Jeni’s and up Grandview Ave. (looking at the power lines that Papa Rod climbs, the different shapes of clouds, and the mailboxes that store our letters to distant family), they had a basket of delicious rolls for the kids. I scored a chicken marsala dish with mushrooms and noodles. It was sweet and tangy. The chicken marsala from many weddings’ past paled in comparison to Ms. Doris’s. The other night she hooked my up with grilled veggies (zucchini and yellow squash and onion), shaved cheese, and chicken. The veggies were out of this world and the chicken juicy, juicy, juicy.
Oh, yes, we must have done something right to land these two for neighbors.