Was at a dinner party over the holidays and the host finally opened the wine I brought: Merlot, Seven Hills, Walla Walla, Washington, 2013. He splashed a rush of gorgeous varietal color into immense burgundy stemware, the nose was intense and it focused lush blueberries, cocoa, and currents. I love this already. The first sip, and I closed my eyes...delicate tannins and balanced acidity on the palate, the aromas carried over to the palate, with blackberries and dark chocolate setting off a series of mid and back palate detonations and finally, breathing the whole experience through the olfactory after swallowing. My eyes opened, my chin dropped as I stared into this divine liquid clinging to the sides of my Austrian crystal stem.
"Matt needs to be here," I lamented, shaking my head,"this is friggin stellar, it's a pour that you talk to!" He knows because he planted and started the vineyard and winery with his dad and 7 brothers back in the 70s.
Sometimes, I talk to wine. When it is particularly enchanting, it becomes a muse that temps us into not only description, but, conversation. She speaks without talking while we respond with all 5 senses, waiting for responses to our rhetorical questions. I needed my favorite interpreter, my wine geek brother to help me translate this beautiful verse spoken from sun and soil, vine and rain.
Matt and Ana came by last week for Clam Chowder and Garlic Bread on Christmas Eve. Not an unusual event since they are practically family; we've seen each other in the craziest circumstances and supported each other during triumphant and sometimes bitter life moments. Actually, they're better than blood relations since we don't carry grudges, can come together or stay away as long as we want. If something happens on the way to the dinner table (I over-cooked a pork loin once...horribly!), we say, "oh, it's just Matt and Ana. They understand..."
Should we go to their place and the egg whites for the egg nog are on the ceiling because the spatula got dropped into the mixing bowl, no problem. "It's just the Quinns, they understand. Can you grab a mop? Oh, and watch the seat, it's a little sticky. Beer's in the back fridge. Dinner will be a little late."
Our friendship is like that comfy, plaid bathrobe you would never get rid of, ya know, the one missing it's cinch, so, you take a leather belt and secure it, much to the distress of your family. Or a t-shirt with rips in the pits and the collar is about to separate, but, it has so many great memories. You didn't get into it to 'create memories' or become threadbare, but, it just kinda happened because every time you came in contact with it, it just felt right. And stains? We laugh them off eventually, and call them 'character marks.' Each was earned and from each we learned.
Ana is a great story teller. She spent her adolescence in foreign countries as her father worked for the State department. Since her mom was from Mexico, Ana blended well during posts in Chile, Bolivia and Italy. Her relaxed manner in regards to time and schedules is legend; her compassion for the down-trodden is exemplary. Summer parties on the back deck are incomplete until she tells a tale of high school cigarette smoking at a convent in Rome, visits to Uncle Pepe' in Mexico City or market excursions in Bolivia with the domestic staff. Ana's timing is pitch-perfect, she displays a grin that barely breaks, laughs so hard it squishes her cheeks, and works an eyebrow that conveys simple surprise to unbearable breaches of protocol. She commands unsolicited, yet, prolonged hugs from my adult boys, their undivided attention during Life Journey critique and plate clearing, Prosecco filling needs are fulfilled with a well directed, maternal smile.
All in a barely 5 foot frame.
Our friendship began over meals at our restaurant, the former Ivy House. They were customers, I was the chef in a sweaty t-shirt, apron and shorts, pressing hands and checking on customers satisfaction. They were a young family, but, evolved into much more than clients. We share a passion for stinky cheeses, eclectic menus, tapas, any kind of grilled meat. Wine is a particular area of shared interest; we go deep into acids, tannins, mouth-feel and finish. We can sit at a table, talk, laugh, discuss and agree-to-disagree till the wee hours.
They were restaurant regulars, became friends and are now indispensable members of our family. We are solid.
Food, wine, dining together are transformational; we discover, we learn, celebrate and grow.
Together.
We are all blessed and this next year, I hope you have someone so special, so close you can succeed and fail with the same sense of acceptance. 'Foodie Friends' that praise your best efforts and are blind to your mistakes. Food is the vehicle, the table is our road, but, lasting friendship is the destination.
Take care, God bless and remember,
"Food, Faith, Family and Friends,
the Best Things in Life Aren't Things!"
chefbq
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