Blog Dis
What's for din-din?
2025-10-09
Food and and I have had a long, illustrious partnership for years, stretching as far back to the days when I discovered cinnamon toast, made that old-fashioned way with liberal amounts of sugar and cinnamon, and drowning the hot toast fresh out of the toaster with loads of creamy butter, to ensure that the cinnamon sugar mix would melt. Talk about bloody delicious!
Yes, food and I have held hands, sung songs together, gorged, tasted, swallowed, inhaled, and even idolized one another on a glorious path to happiness. I can't see any reason to give up my passion, although I will admit to employing more nutritional methodologies easily for the last three decades, more so than I did when I was that cinnamon eating toast girl.
We are now in October and because we're well into this month, it means Thanksgiving in Canada will hit on Monday, October 13th, thereby giving everyone a statutory holiday, an extra day off to be with family and friends or one or both, and time to get all hands on-deck to pull together a scrumptious meal. Not me, however. At one point in time, I'd go all out and pull together a yummy meal for a select few but it had never included roasting turkey. My Thanksgiving meals were always non-traditional. Sometimes I'd prepare a lasagna or meatloaf with roasted veggies and serve delectables on the side, like smoked oyster crescent rolls, wrapped in bacon. Or, conversely I'd cook boneless chicken breast kabobs, marinated in all-natural yogurt with a dash of curry, the night before, along with basmati rice with almond slivers and raisins and a baguette loaf, baked in the oven, dripping with brie cheese and a balsamic fig sauce. A tossed salad was typically featured in my feasts because a meal without greens cannot be called a meal in my books.
I never asked my guests to clean up dishes or to help cook. My one rule was simple: bring yourself and that is all. I will supply the food and the wine.
It is during these special feast-holidays that I think of all those people who've left my life, come and gone, lived and partied, left their mark and then disappeared for good. I've lost my father and a close friend who was my mentor and colleague. I've watched other people lose loved ones from accident or illness. I also understand that the family and friends I had treated to my Thanksgiving dinners will one day die, just like me. This is one of the reasons why a big dinner is ideal, to reflect on the elements of our lives that hold meaning, whether they're people or our health or our dreams and how we somehow manage to keep them intact, at least until we achieve maybe half of them. One friend would often quote his favorite expression, which I've never forgotten, "May all your dreams come true but one." His was a Lebanese saying that meant without your dreams to inspire and propel you forward, what else are you living for, other than to experience everything you can in life, to share these experiences with those you admire and love.
A meal seals the deal.
Traditionally, however, the women in every household get stuck pulling the meal together for themselves and every guest, while men get off easy, happily stuffing themselves, only to push their chair back from the table, in order that the women can begin the clean-up. This, without doubt, is the principal reason why I stopped accepting invitations to big dinners because I detest any situation where a sense of fair play isn't observed. Pulling a small meal together for myself and two other people is fine but a sit-down feast for twelve? I don't think so.
No longer can I handle large meals. My digestive system goes into shock when I eat too much, such as is the case when it comes to Thanksgiving meals, where there's turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, stuffing, green beans, cranberry sauce, after which dessert is rolled out, in the form of pumpkin pie and specialty coffees and maybe even more nibbles. The mere idea of eating this much makes me feel sick to my stomach. Now I'm content with a simple salad and a glass of red wine, whether to be alone or with one family friend or two. The bonus in feeding a small group means less fuss and more time to indulge in fine wine. Yay!
I am reminded of one instance, where after my editor was thoroughly wined and dined in my cramped kitchen, with peeling paint on the walls, he hopped onto his bike to cycle home late in the night, with a full belly. I got a call next morning. He chastised me. "I've got a bone to pick with you. I wondered why it felt so much colder than before, when I first arrived, until I realized that I left my jacket at your place and I was cycling home wearing only a T-shirt. You allowed me to leave hammered on white wine." Bahahaha! I had never noticed. We had such a fine time of eating and drinking, and engaging in stimulating discussions.
This year I'm attending a little get-together. My friend was clear in her instructions, "We're having appetizers and drinks and that is all." Yes! Drinky-poos and some nibbles... easy-peasy. Simple is succinct.
I guess I'm not the only one who'd rather avoid stuffing their bellies like some cavernous dead bird, before being popped into the oven. And if for some reason the evening invitation is cancelled, I can revert back to my past and indulge in some cinnamon toast!
Yes, food and I have held hands, sung songs together, gorged, tasted, swallowed, inhaled, and even idolized one another on a glorious path to happiness. I can't see any reason to give up my passion, although I will admit to employing more nutritional methodologies easily for the last three decades, more so than I did when I was that cinnamon eating toast girl.
We are now in October and because we're well into this month, it means Thanksgiving in Canada will hit on Monday, October 13th, thereby giving everyone a statutory holiday, an extra day off to be with family and friends or one or both, and time to get all hands on-deck to pull together a scrumptious meal. Not me, however. At one point in time, I'd go all out and pull together a yummy meal for a select few but it had never included roasting turkey. My Thanksgiving meals were always non-traditional. Sometimes I'd prepare a lasagna or meatloaf with roasted veggies and serve delectables on the side, like smoked oyster crescent rolls, wrapped in bacon. Or, conversely I'd cook boneless chicken breast kabobs, marinated in all-natural yogurt with a dash of curry, the night before, along with basmati rice with almond slivers and raisins and a baguette loaf, baked in the oven, dripping with brie cheese and a balsamic fig sauce. A tossed salad was typically featured in my feasts because a meal without greens cannot be called a meal in my books.
I never asked my guests to clean up dishes or to help cook. My one rule was simple: bring yourself and that is all. I will supply the food and the wine.
It is during these special feast-holidays that I think of all those people who've left my life, come and gone, lived and partied, left their mark and then disappeared for good. I've lost my father and a close friend who was my mentor and colleague. I've watched other people lose loved ones from accident or illness. I also understand that the family and friends I had treated to my Thanksgiving dinners will one day die, just like me. This is one of the reasons why a big dinner is ideal, to reflect on the elements of our lives that hold meaning, whether they're people or our health or our dreams and how we somehow manage to keep them intact, at least until we achieve maybe half of them. One friend would often quote his favorite expression, which I've never forgotten, "May all your dreams come true but one." His was a Lebanese saying that meant without your dreams to inspire and propel you forward, what else are you living for, other than to experience everything you can in life, to share these experiences with those you admire and love.
A meal seals the deal.
Traditionally, however, the women in every household get stuck pulling the meal together for themselves and every guest, while men get off easy, happily stuffing themselves, only to push their chair back from the table, in order that the women can begin the clean-up. This, without doubt, is the principal reason why I stopped accepting invitations to big dinners because I detest any situation where a sense of fair play isn't observed. Pulling a small meal together for myself and two other people is fine but a sit-down feast for twelve? I don't think so.
No longer can I handle large meals. My digestive system goes into shock when I eat too much, such as is the case when it comes to Thanksgiving meals, where there's turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, stuffing, green beans, cranberry sauce, after which dessert is rolled out, in the form of pumpkin pie and specialty coffees and maybe even more nibbles. The mere idea of eating this much makes me feel sick to my stomach. Now I'm content with a simple salad and a glass of red wine, whether to be alone or with one family friend or two. The bonus in feeding a small group means less fuss and more time to indulge in fine wine. Yay!
I am reminded of one instance, where after my editor was thoroughly wined and dined in my cramped kitchen, with peeling paint on the walls, he hopped onto his bike to cycle home late in the night, with a full belly. I got a call next morning. He chastised me. "I've got a bone to pick with you. I wondered why it felt so much colder than before, when I first arrived, until I realized that I left my jacket at your place and I was cycling home wearing only a T-shirt. You allowed me to leave hammered on white wine." Bahahaha! I had never noticed. We had such a fine time of eating and drinking, and engaging in stimulating discussions.
This year I'm attending a little get-together. My friend was clear in her instructions, "We're having appetizers and drinks and that is all." Yes! Drinky-poos and some nibbles... easy-peasy. Simple is succinct.
I guess I'm not the only one who'd rather avoid stuffing their bellies like some cavernous dead bird, before being popped into the oven. And if for some reason the evening invitation is cancelled, I can revert back to my past and indulge in some cinnamon toast!
