eat and greet: the social table

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

the social table

My good friend Arax of Kiss and Type likes to think that her blog is in many ways, just an extended Christmas List. Now since, I'm not looking to find sushi grade tuna and a new bottle of truffle oil beautifully wrapped and vying for my attention on Christmas morning, I can't say that I can agree with her.

That is, maybe, until now.

All because this little gem was just brought to my attention: Cooking classes at The Social Table. For $65 a person, you and a friend, family member, or loved one can attend a BYOB (which, c'mon, is HUGE) cooking class. There are a huge range of class types ranging from the Basics to Global Cuisine.

Love this concept. The beyond perfect gift for the new foodie in your life.

I mean, I'm just sayin'.

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who i am

When faced with the question of what food means to me, conversation inevitably shifts to my Mor-Mor (Swedish for Grandmother): A phenomenal cook who refused help in the kitchen and didn't believe in recipes. The real deal, if you will.

Mor-Mor had a seriously strong hand with garlic (surprisingly for a Swede) and an innate knack for making anything taste implausibly delicious. There was always a jar of homemade garlic oil in her fridge which found its way drizzled on top of almost everything. Like one of her breakfast treats: homemade bread slathered with garlic oil, a few slices of granny smith apple, and topped with extra sharp cheddar. Into her beloved toaster oven they'd go until the cheese had just melted, lovingly, over the apples. The salty-sweet combination could make your head spin—a beautiful cohesion of flavors and textures from such an unexpected pairing.

And then there were her meatballs. With her homemade tomato sauce made from tomatoes grown in her garden, picked when perfectly plump and warm from the summer sun, a ladle of garlic oil, and tons of parsley (Mor-Mor may or may not have been secretly Italian), they sent eyeballs rolling to the backs of people’s heads. The thought alone of her in that kitchen makes my heart long, once again, for her cooking. For her.

Now when I'm cooking, I finally understand her insistence on navigating the kitchen alone. There's something about getting in there and winding down and having your own personal space to create that’s beyond therapeutic—it’s wholly fulfilling and soul-satisfying.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

the social table

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