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by C. Jeanette Tyson
Most people
preceded this month with a big New Year’s Eve celebration.
I appreciate the sense of closure, I do, but I could never understand why
it was always such a public event -- kisses shared with strangers who had
no idea what you’d been through that year and why you were so happy
to get drunk and try to forget about it.
I
like the calm introspection of the last day of the year and the full
intake of breath on the first day of the year….but in between?
Everything seems so forced. Also it’s tough for me to stay up until
midnight these days.
But this year, or last year I guess you’d say, dear friends had
announced their imminent departure to exotic places south and it seemed
like a good reason, and good day, to celebrate. I also wanted to
guarantee a spot in their guest room. So the evites went out. New
Year’s Eve it would be. Boo hoo’s and bubbly and buh-buh 2006. It would
be fabulous.
Then with the whole Santa thing, I sort of forgot about it. Postponed,
procrastinated, dawdled.
Until I woke up at 3 am one morning with my heart pounding. Was it a
dream? Did I really have forty hungry, thirsty, notoriously foodie-fied
people on their way to my house? Whew, no. It was only the 29th.
At a more reasonable hour but still haunted by the ghost of parties
past (cheese and crackers and screw-top, raw chicken and potatoes, oh
my), I did what I always do: made a stiff cup of espresso and pulled
out the latest issues of Bon Appetit and Gourmet. What
would someone
with a full kitchen staff and a week of uninterrupted prep time do?
The Shrimp Couscous with Tangerines and Almonds looked good. In fact,
it looked terrific. What was that lovely green bit, onions? They have
photographers on staff, too.
And the Mexican Wedding Cookies. Wow, how long had it been since I had
those? How long since I’d been to a Mexican wedding? They were just the
thing for the post-holiday tremors, it seemed. Since I’m not the type
to bombard unsuspecting neighbors with ordinary baked goods (not you,
Pat, your gingersnaps are EXTRAORDINARY and we’ll take them anytime.
Not that the kids got any) it gave me a final powdered-sugar jolt to
the season.
I didn’t, to be fair, do it all alone. A friend and I made runs to the
big big-box grocery stores. Others brought holiday leftovers. Others
made appetizers. There was cheap champagne punch, as in “hey, come on
in, have some cheap champagne punch.” And good wine.
The crowd arrived. Candles were lit. Music was played. Forks were
raised high, expectations higher and then…then…
“This Shrimp Couscous is terrific,” said the former chef.
“Good to know. This is the first time I’ve made it.” Was that a step
back? An eyebrow raised?
“You’re not supposed to do that,” he said.
I know, I know; not that, or wear white shoes after Labor Day or smoke
in the street.
Yes, mamas, I had forty people on the way to my house and I’m proud to
say that I made guinea pigs of every one of them. It felt good. It felt
so good that I decided to make that my New Year’s Resolution since I
didn’t have one and the deadline was drawing near.
Not to turn my friends into swine, just to turn loose. Don’t think too
much. Give it a whirl. See how it goes. Follow my heart, not the rules
as somebody else sees them.
All life runs through the kitchen. This former chef, a very nice guy,
was joking with me. Anyway everyone knows it’s not the most prudent
thing, not the smartest, to risk failing at a new recipe in front of
forty people who’ve all managed to feed me quite well at their homes.
It’s not the common wisdom.
What I’m saying is, I’m done with wisdom.
I have the feeling that if I let go a little, live on the edge, even if
it is only the edge of a butter knife, that I’ll live a lot more
intensely. And that’s what I really want out of this year. To take it
up a notch.
What would I have done if the Shrimp Couscous had turned out to be
inedible?
Let them eat Mexican Wedding cookies, of course.
That reminds me. My neighbor wants the recipe.
__________
C. Jeanette Tyson is a freelance writer and branding and advertising
muckety-muck (visit thethinkkitchen.com),
not to
mention a mom who let
her kids stay up until midnight, just this once.
