Rating: 💋 💋 💋 😘
Taking all of my vacation days over the winter holidays really was the best decision I could have made. I mean, I kind of had to, because it was too early on in my position to take off in the summer, when I only started working in July. I was not going to let my days evaporate into nothing with the start of the new year, which is what would have happened if I had decided to work over the holidays. It was perfect though because it gave me extended time with my family to relax and really be present, allowing me to visit relatives on both sides of my family and map out my plans for the new year.
Along with the good company, there was good food, and the kind I cannot necessarily make for myself in Brooklyn. Any recipe with fish (that will go bad quickly) or a rare ingredient (that won't be used regularly and will no doubt be overpriced at at New York grocery store) is kind of out of the question when you are cooking for one with a busy schedule. Even simple dishes like banana, cinnamon, and nutmeg on peanut butter toast becomes impossible when working hours that necessitate eating breakfast and lunch in an office. It just doesn't travel well, you know?
At home though, I could relax through my meals, no Tupperware required. It is a lot easier to cook more complicated meals when you have great appliances and six people to enjoy the food. The entire vacation was a culinary delight, eating a hot bowl of chili while watching the Eagles beat the Dallas Cowgirls, trying dairy-free yogurt my Mom got in reaction to that food poisoning episode I had a few weeks ago, enjoying striped bass wrapped in prosciutto alongside roasted root vegetables during one of our family dinners, and trying a pierogi for the first time while enjoying the Eagles win the NFC East. I could not have been more grateful as I took the week and a half to recharge and slow down before heading back to the frenetic pace of the city and the harsh winter, now stripped of holiday cheer.
Amongst all these lovely meals, the dish I am going to highlight is my mom's grilled lamb chops served over a bed of herb risotto. She made it the Friday after Christmas, celebrating our last holiday dinner with the entire family together. Saturday morning, Conor packed up and drove back to his new apartment, his job, and his friends, hours away. My mom created a menu to send him off in style.
Giving credit where credit is due, Conor worked as my mom's sous-chef, measuring out the oil and water for the watercress-spinach puree that would get stirred into the risotto, helping my mom triple the recipe measures so that there would be enough food to feed the whole family, and assisting her with arranging the lamb chops on the pan.
Until he got distracted.
While my mom and Conor cooked, my dad and I sat opposite their prep station at the kitchen island, tackling the crossword. Soon enough, all of that derailed though, as my brother started telling me of the marionettes tragically stolen from our childhoods. I had no idea about this great betrayal of 1999, and he was more than happy to fill me in.
When I was two years old, my parents went to Paris on a business trip, and when they came back they brought three marionettes for the three of us kids (my younger sister would not be born for another three years). After showing us the marionette toys they had gotten for us, my parents promptly packed them away in their closet for twenty years. They got us the souvenirs, let us catch a glimpse, and then hid them away so we would not break them, according to Conor. He then told us how he used to sneak into their closet and play with his, before my mom caught him and shooed him out.
We retrieved the marionettes from the closet, and it seems my parents had a fair point: the marionette my brother snuck was completely tangled. Fortunately, we fixed it and Conor gave us a little pre-dinner show. Conor cannot do a French accent, but he does a mean Mrs. Doubtfire/Mary Berry. Most of the act revolved around the French marionettes sauntering around, dying for a cigarette, and getting extremely impassioned and high-pitched for no reason at all. It was a spectacular performance. Now that the three of us have recovered our long lost marionettes, they are happily collecting dust in our own closets. I think one day, when I am rich and famous and live in an elegant cottage filled with French-style decor, my marionette might get its own display. Probably not if my husband has anything to say about it though...
Despite all the distraction, somehow dinner got cooked.
The lamb was a gorgeous, tender pink, without too much fat ruining the chop, but with just enough to add flavor to the juicy meat. Underneath, a lovely pile of herb risotto infused with the watercress and spinach added a fresh, creamy zip to the dish. Even better, roasted walnuts were strewn across the whole plate. Every single woman in my family raved about how much they love walnuts, myself included, so the dish was definitely a crowd-pleaser. The guys did not have much to add about their undying affection for walnuts, nor did they contribute much to our discussion on the British monarchy. They seemed to enjoy the meal all the same, though perhaps not the conversation. Conor actually raised his hand and asked why any of us care about the Queen Mum and the discord between the princes, when we're all American. Personally, I think the real problem was that he had gotten too into character commiserating with the French.
Once Conor redirected the conversation away from Windsor Castle, we all agreed that the best way to eat the dish was to make sure every component - lamb, risotto, walnut - was included on each bite. The smokey walnut flavor mixed with the greens and grilled lamb was absolute heaven, and I walked away from the table so happily full. Not only did it taste scrumptious, the springy flavors reminded me that we just have to get through a few more months before the sun returns to the earth and thaws us all out. This was not just Conor's farewell dinner for me, this was a message of hope.
Until next time, courage! Dreary January will melt away soon enough.
XX,
MK
Comments