![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
magidI was invited out to Shabbat dinner for the first time in a while. I was looking forward to it, with such interesting and accomplished hosts, who have a way of entertaining with such grace. I was not disappointed.
There were seven of us, all people I knew, to some extent or another, including an older Israeli couple, which meant that there was a bit more inter-language word play at times.
As usual, the table was beautifully set, china, crystal wine glasses, cloth napkins matching the tablecloth. There were three little vases on a lace runner in the middle, each with a slightly different bouquet of leaves: many shapes and colors, but low enough that there was no impediment to conversation whatsoever.
After kiddush (blessing over wine) and motzi (blessing over bread), the meal started with soup. Each bowl came out, green and garnished. It was a cold (though not chilled; just slightly cooler than room temperature) bright green fresh-pea (not dried pea) soup, with little chunks of potato and some allium (onion? leek?) as well as pea. The garnish was thin slices of mint, and there was just a hint of mint in the soup itself. It was excellent.
The bowls were cleared, then the host took plates, two by two, into the kitchen to plate the main course. When my plate returned, it was carefully arranged, just so. There was a bed of mixed baby salad greens topped with a toasted barley salad (barley toasted, then cooked with vegetable stock; there were slices of scallion and corn kernels as well). On one side was a bit of ratatouille, with small, elegant chunks of vegetables. This was partly covered with a large slab of some kind of roast, still pink inside, with a pastrami-like rub on the outside. I had been having meat cravings during the Nine Days, so this last was particularly welcome, but all of it was good. I was touched that the hostess asked if anyone was not a cilantro person, since I am unable to eat it (well, I suppose technically I could, but it would be such an extremely unpleasant situation...). I assume she put that on the barley salad for those who are cilantro-endowed. The vegetarian got larger helpings of everything non-meat.
Through the meal, we finished off two bottles of wine, one a red that was about 3-5 years old, the other a 10-year-old cabernet sauvignon that had had to be recanted, since the cork had rotted. Happily, it hadn't affected the wine. Obviously, I am not enough of an oenophile: I don't remember more about either of them, other than that they were pleasant.
Then dessert. Each dessert plate had a wedge of blueberry cake, next to a small scoop of slightly chunky strawberry sorbet, garnished with a mint leaf and part of a pansy leaf (all edible, of course). We teased the vegetarian about whether he could eat the petal or not, since pansies have faces, after all...
We bentched (grace after meals), and moved to the more comfortable chairs in the living room. The host brought out an array of Scotches, plus some Calvados, while the hostess put out little dishes of post-prandial snacks: chocolate coffee beans (not the kind with real coffee nibs in them), chocolates with rum-flavored liquid centers, and pistachios. We sat around chatting for an hour or more, until the timer on their living room lights started to go off.
There was much discussion, ranging from math education, to Israeli politics, to recent Shakespeare performances, and of course, food. One highlight was a filk written by our hostess, which she sang after dinner (not that she called it a filk; I'm not sure she knows the term). To the tune of "Oh Tannenbaum", we heard the first two verses (all that are complete) of "Oh Tisha B'Av"....
There were seven of us, all people I knew, to some extent or another, including an older Israeli couple, which meant that there was a bit more inter-language word play at times.
As usual, the table was beautifully set, china, crystal wine glasses, cloth napkins matching the tablecloth. There were three little vases on a lace runner in the middle, each with a slightly different bouquet of leaves: many shapes and colors, but low enough that there was no impediment to conversation whatsoever.
After kiddush (blessing over wine) and motzi (blessing over bread), the meal started with soup. Each bowl came out, green and garnished. It was a cold (though not chilled; just slightly cooler than room temperature) bright green fresh-pea (not dried pea) soup, with little chunks of potato and some allium (onion? leek?) as well as pea. The garnish was thin slices of mint, and there was just a hint of mint in the soup itself. It was excellent.
The bowls were cleared, then the host took plates, two by two, into the kitchen to plate the main course. When my plate returned, it was carefully arranged, just so. There was a bed of mixed baby salad greens topped with a toasted barley salad (barley toasted, then cooked with vegetable stock; there were slices of scallion and corn kernels as well). On one side was a bit of ratatouille, with small, elegant chunks of vegetables. This was partly covered with a large slab of some kind of roast, still pink inside, with a pastrami-like rub on the outside. I had been having meat cravings during the Nine Days, so this last was particularly welcome, but all of it was good. I was touched that the hostess asked if anyone was not a cilantro person, since I am unable to eat it (well, I suppose technically I could, but it would be such an extremely unpleasant situation...). I assume she put that on the barley salad for those who are cilantro-endowed. The vegetarian got larger helpings of everything non-meat.
Through the meal, we finished off two bottles of wine, one a red that was about 3-5 years old, the other a 10-year-old cabernet sauvignon that had had to be recanted, since the cork had rotted. Happily, it hadn't affected the wine. Obviously, I am not enough of an oenophile: I don't remember more about either of them, other than that they were pleasant.
Then dessert. Each dessert plate had a wedge of blueberry cake, next to a small scoop of slightly chunky strawberry sorbet, garnished with a mint leaf and part of a pansy leaf (all edible, of course). We teased the vegetarian about whether he could eat the petal or not, since pansies have faces, after all...
We bentched (grace after meals), and moved to the more comfortable chairs in the living room. The host brought out an array of Scotches, plus some Calvados, while the hostess put out little dishes of post-prandial snacks: chocolate coffee beans (not the kind with real coffee nibs in them), chocolates with rum-flavored liquid centers, and pistachios. We sat around chatting for an hour or more, until the timer on their living room lights started to go off.
There was much discussion, ranging from math education, to Israeli politics, to recent Shakespeare performances, and of course, food. One highlight was a filk written by our hostess, which she sang after dinner (not that she called it a filk; I'm not sure she knows the term). To the tune of "Oh Tannenbaum", we heard the first two verses (all that are complete) of "Oh Tisha B'Av"....
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-08-10 09:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-10 06:34 pm (UTC)