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30
MY
ROUSES
EVERYDAY
NOVEMBER | DECEMBER 2016
B
eing part of a big family made being alone on a holiday
miserable. One season long ago when I was single, it wasn’t
possible to get home. I felt downright pitiful.
The next year I invited just about everyone I knew forThanksgiving.
We were all young and pretty naïve about this entertaining thing.
There wasn’t much planning. Everyone would bring something, and
I’d do the turkey. Easy. After all, for years I’d watched my mother
cook the bird.
Thanksgiving morning I went to the grocery to get a fresh turkey.
Of course all they had was frozen.
A hotel chef, a friend, bailed me out. His boss, a savvy guy, had
warned him that not only I, but also some of his colleagues, would
fail to get it together. Grinning, the chef handed over turkeys
and fixings. He joined us later for his share. Thus began a lifelong
appreciation of cooks and chefs.
The guests brought a few edible things. The ones who couldn’t
cook (almost everyone) brought wine and other adult beverages.
One friend found some gorgeous, colorful gourds and attempted to
bake them.They made a lovely
centerpiece.Wecreated a makeshift
buffet and bar and perched wherever we could, balancing plates
and glasses on the floor.There was plenty to eat and drink, friends,
music, laughter, and best of all, we weren’t alone.
Over the years holiday gatherings at my house became a tradition.
As the size of my house grew, so did the guest list. Usually, there
were anywhere from 40 to 50 or so. Our record stands at 80. Food
writers, media pals, friends and friends of friends passed through.
Apprentice cooks and chefs, fledgling or famous, joined the crowd.
Jeremiah Tower, Donald Link, Zack Engel (now chef de cuisine
at Shaya) and Kevin Davis (Arnaud’s former chef, now with his
own restaurants in Seattle) all took their turns here. Food writer
Tom Fitzmorris cleaned vegetables when he was a bachelor, while
restaurant reviewer Gene Bourg simply charmed everyone and
asked for our biscuit recipe. Greg Reggio from Zea and Semolina
offered feathered ducks after a hunting trip, first asking if I knew
what to do with them. I did. They went straight to Kevin. Duck
soup became another tradition.
We always enjoyed discovering friends’ food memories and make an
effort to satisfy that longing when we write the menu.There was the
guest one year who thanked me for remembering he was vegetarian
and providing a lavish vegetarian spread for his enjoyment. It was
a misplaced compliment, however welcome — we simply had a
variety of dishes.
Memories included fresh corn scraped from the cob and sautéed in
butter. Corn pudding, another favorite, took a couple of years to get
just right. It was never wrong, just didn’t meet that particular taste
memory. Another memory was buttered peas topped with chopped
fresh mint.Brussels sprouts were halved and oven roasted with bacon.
Gathered
Together
by
Kit Wohl
the
Holiday
issue