Friday, January 18, 2019

Those secret & unlikely companionships

Who would think Delicata (squash) and tulips would be pals?  Well, just look at this photo; they are on the circle together.  Perhaps, not in the contours you are most familiar, but companions nevertheless.  Makes me think of unlikely companions in a dish.  I've been using fruit in unlikely ways --cold & cooked-- to salads, green and otherwise.  Now, I'm thinking, are there words which are unlikely companions?

1 comment:

  1. Winter Takes Her

    K. was a great cook and often loved to share food and wine and company with her friends. I was not often at a formal dinner gathering, but one of the last times we dined, she made me a tuna sandwich on her favorite berry and wheat bread. I watched as she carefully added celery and mayo and herbs, toasting the bread gently and assembling our lunch with care. We sat at her kitchen table overlooking the Bay, a wide expansive view of boats and buildings and motion on the blue-grey waters that reached the edges of our City and beyond. I think we must have talked about our lives as we had not caught up on things for some time. Such was the case as she travelled to Rome half the year and I was still working full time, teaching in fact, so that I was able to share stories about this profession with her, my former professor, mentor, and now friend.
    Her husband A. arrived home and in customary fashion enveloped us in his laughter and mischief as she always said he would. Their playfulness was infectious and we had a fun few hours before I left. I sensed a new protectiveness from him, and a new acceptance of it from her.
    I left a small box of candy for them, which they examined in detail--the packaging, the scent, the origin, the ribbon. It was that way with them both--an appreciation of detail, the look and feel and texture of things, nothing casual or nonchalant about an exchange. I hugged them both and made my way down their narrow, winding stairway to the steps off their Russian Hill neighborhood which overlooked the Bay, the city to the east, the rolling hills to north beach haunts, and looked back at the door to which I had been admitted only a few times, always feeling a sense of privilege to be allowed into so private a life.