Sumptuous feasts get enjoyed to the point of pain in this Season of Eating, as that last piece of pie makes it nearly impossible to summon enough strength to push back from the groaning board. Lyn and I had such a meal at the Southern Inn, in Lexington, Virginia, as we traveled toward Georgia for holidays with Daughter Leslie and her son Henri, aka King of Legos because he's so good at assembling those myriad Lego pieces into wondrous constructions.
The restaurant was as festive and cheerily lit as the street it sits on (in the nighttime image above). And the meal, from the plump oysters on the half shell, through the perfectly roasted breast of duck and French lamb, to the precisely warmed fruit pie, topped with ice cream – ahhh, that meal; now that was some good eating, some fine way to get The Season started. And the good eats just kept on getting better at Chef Leslie's table.
But on the other hand . . .
. . . there was the meal a family friend described in an email to Lyn. Our friend is a fine cook, and we've enjoyed our share of her elegant, delicious dinners. But this wasn't one of them. Here's part of what she wrote:
In all my experiences of serving dinners, from the Newfoundland days when I was terrified to start the oil-burning stove, until this Xmas Eve, I can say, without any false modesty, that it was the single worse dinner I have ever served anyone.
This includes the Thanksgiving turkey that exploded when, for unknown reasons, I covered the roasting pan. It includes a crown roast of pork that was so undercooked no one could cut it much less chew it. And it includes variations of other failures.
But none were worse than the ham, cheese pita, and vegetable platters. It was a humiliation, but I decided I wouldn't even bother apologizing. It was what it was – a colossal flop. And though "room temperature" was (instructed) for the ham and pita, it was COLD, real cold.
When Lyn finished reading the e, there was a moment of silence before she, Leslie and I broke into laughter tinged with sympathy, knowing that but for the grace of the food gods, there go any of us.
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I have certainly have had some colossal flops. Heck I could probably write a book about them. ha... and on top of some the oven went out one year at Easter as everyone was awaiting dinner. UGH... Good to hear you got to be with your Dear Ones for Christmas. I hope you are home safe as the snow storm rolls up your way.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Lisa. Seems like one storm after another. Hope they give you a break and don't snow you under. Cheers.
DeleteOh, the stress of this holiday, which can cause an experienced cook / hostess to implode (or explode the contents of the oven-- yikes)
ReplyDeleteI escaped cooking all but a Christmas luncheon, and the food was fine but the toppled glass of water drenched my plate, the seat cushion, the rug and my pants. Eep. All other meals were cooked and served by others or were at fancy restaurants, all good. Really good.
I'm glad to hear you ate so very well this season!
You were fortunate to escape the stress, Laurrie. Eating well is a good thing, but I couldn't handle eating this way all year long. Cheers.
DeleteIt happens to the best of us! Despite our efforts, sometimes the only dish we make well is humble pie. I've baked and eaten many!
ReplyDeleteWell said, Tammy, well said. If only every meal could be done so well. I suppose that would be monotonous, though.
DeleteThis is the richest food scene I've experienced in ages. Really, I can't wait for it to end. One more meal on Sunday night and that is IT!
ReplyDeleteI recall with horror the paella dinner I prepared for my husband's advisor and his wife. I didn't realize until serving time that the oven had quit.... They were gracious.
I'd love to know more about the 'King of Lagos'. I have spent time in Lagos and am curious.
I'm with you; if this keeps up, I'm going to have to get a whole new wardrobe. The busted oven is as bad as it gets. Amazing how many ways a dinner can go bad.
DeleteSorry, I didn't make the Legos reference clear. Henri's favorite pastime is assembling those little pieces made by a company called Lego. Here's a link to a piece I wrote about him, not including Legos, though:
http://www.leemaysgardeninglife.com/2012/07/a-little-weeder-gets-down-and-gets-life.html
You ever write about Lagos? I've known people from there, but I've never been.
Happy overeating (for two more days).
A DUH moment! Lego, of course!!!
DeleteLagos (and beyond) was in 1965-1966 with the Peace Corps. I taught school in eastern Nigeria just prior to the Biafran war. I haven't written about those experiences much. Things have changed so radically in Nigeria that I don't feel knowledgeable enough to do so.
2012 was so special in that the children of a student we sent to university in the USA located us via the web. We have exchanged news and they have thanked us for changing their lives...something totally unexpected!
Henri is lucky to have a partner in the garden as well as Legos! He'll thank you too one day!
A good moment, actually, as it led to my learning about your important work. It's a reminder of the rewards and needs associated with helping children. How nice to have the contact you mention. Let's hear it for the Web.
Deletethe southern Inn sounds great!!!
ReplyDeleteIt'll make you hurt yourself, Sharon.
DeleteIt's funny how you start to remember places by the food you ate! Great story Lee and I don't think there's anyone on the planet who hasn't cooked up a disaster for a meal at least once :)
ReplyDeleteThanks, Rosemary. Often the occasions, the places, are at least as delicious as the meals. Here's to many disaster-free feasts.
DeleteOh, I enjoyed these culinary adventures, Lee. Your "adventure" sounded quite pleasant in comparison to your family friend's. I have to laugh with your friend. I boiled some oyster dressing one year for Thanksgiving. It had too much liquid in it, and never did materialize into dressing. The whole scene was hilarious, and became quite a source of entertainment for us.
ReplyDelete