plate piled high

Well, in the matter of weeks since I’ve been absent from this blog, I have managed to update a house (new plumbing, electricity, AC, kitchen, and yard after much family muscle), graduate from medical school, get in my first wreck, and start residency (orientation at least). Needless to say, it has been a busy season in my life.

Now, wait. If any of you just got hung up on that “first wreck” situation, let me elucidate: Tahoe-1, beat up Honda-0. It was just a teensy bump really, but obviously the Tahoe emphatically protected me by hardly garnering a dent, while totaling the car in front of me. Not the most fun I’ve ever had in a restaurant parking lot, but thankfully no was injured (despite the “headache” the dear driver of said-Honda thinks he has developed one week later, and despite the headache I have brought upon myself). Lesson learned: be a better driver, especially while operating a moving vehicle, especially a large one.

Further explanation: we hosted guests in our home a few days after we moved in (because we just really like over-loading our metaphorical plates), and I was doing a little brainstorming (while driving) for the first dinner party I would throw at Bartlett: crispy salt and vinegar potatoes…butter-basted salmon with hazelnut relish and crispy bibb salad…fallen chocolate cake with fresh whipped cream for dessert…mmm…then *crash*! At the least the meal turned out well. I truly needed a moment of good people around my table-- so rejuvenating and re-orienting for me-- to remind me of how satisfying it can be to love my friends in the way I know best, with food! 

First dinner at Bartlett

hazelnut pesto

toasted hazelnuts

clean

salt and vinegar potatoes

butter basted salmon with hazelnut pesto

fallen chocolate cake

...and the subsequent dinner at Bartlett...

Speaking of re-orientation:

I love a good "what should we do tonight" text circa 7 pm on a Friday night. It is a challenge almost, for my busy mind, to refrain from naming 100 energy-requiring things we could do and suggest instead that we all just get together and sit around (like everyone probably wants to do anyway). Last Friday night, after a week of surgery orientation and ATLS training, I bravely suggested an impromptu meal at my very messy house, sitting on whatever clean surface we could find. I prepped pizza dough and friends brought over toppings and bottles of wine. The gals sat in the kitchen on countertops and pulled up chairs and I slouched over my new oven, pulling pizzas off the absurdly hot pizza stone, one after the other: pesto and balsamic chicken with feta, then a pepperoni/sausage with fresh mozzarella and tomato sauce, then prosciutto and lemon/olive oil tossed arugula. The guys mozied in from the living room almost methodically after each pizza emerged, as if the rich smell of the dough and cheeses cued them forward, and we all piled another piece on our plates together. The night went on just so, until our bellies were full and our minds relaxed (and our house just felt more like a home by the minute).

That night marks my new ideal, a transition in hope, if you will. I know this residency is going to eat me alive, but I never want to stop feeding people out of my home...even if it is just a last minute attempt at bringing my friends together over a quality meal.