Sunday Dinner

My mother, like most of my family, is an excellent cook. Lucky for us, so is her boyfriend. Every Sunday, he cooks her an elaborate meal, which I find quite endearing. I ocasionally receive an invitation to these lavish Sunday dinners. Greg really has no boundaries when it comes to food preparation. I'm always hearing about the new concoctions he whipped up with his smoker and his early morning treks to the Broadway Market for fresh bay scallops and the like.

Since N. was in town this weekend, Greg and my mamma invited us over to eat. I have to start by saying that I love biscuits. Maybe this is a by-product of living in the South or perhaps I have an affinity for all things light, airy and buttery. In any event, my mother got a recipe from Cook's Magazine, which I do not subscribe to but I won't be mad at you if you decide to get me a subscription for a present. I could go on and on about the glory of this magazine; it's so informative! But I will leave that research up to you. The point is, my mother found a recipe for the best biscuits I have ever had, although I have to give a close second to Miss Nettie, from Memphis, who makes biscuits and hot water cornbread to die for. I don't have the complete recipe yet but the technique that made these biscuits so delectable I can share. The melted butter is poured directly into cold buttermilk, whereby it immediately clumps up. This may look rather nasty, but the effect is that smalls globes of butter are suspended throughout the mixture, distributing their heavenly lightness and flavor. My mamma added snippets of fresh sage that just about put me over the edge.

So that was just the biscuits. The first course was a pureed soup of cauliflower and parsnips. Upon first taste, Greg pronounced that he would go to war for that soup. It was so seasonal, the taste of fall consummate. I love this time of year, when smooth, pureed soups of root vegetables really highlight local produce.

The main course was osso bucco, simmered in a spicy broth with carrots and turnips. I don't even like turnips but smothered in a rich, veal gravy, I cannot complain. The meat was tender to the bone. Sides included a risotto with chanterelle, shitake and oyster mushrooms and topped with TRUFFLE SHAVINGS! No wonder my mother loves this man. There was also swiss chard, sauteed with a bit of chipotle for a kick. I cleaned my plate and mopped it up with another biscuit. Oh my.

I should mention that Greg mixes a mean cosmopolitan, which I sipped on through the meal. After we finished eating, my mother whipped out this beautiful tea bud that she bought at the Elmwood Farmers Market. I'm kind of ignorant about tea so I can't say much except to describe how it looked. The long, slender green tea leaves were pulled together and knotted at the base, four wine-colored leaves extended up and the center was a raspberry burst of color. We watched it unfurl in the hot water while my mother snapped about a million pictures. I think the experience was better than the taste. It was nice, but very delicate. I prefer the more robust punch of coffee. But I would definitely buy this tea again, probably just to take a warm bath in and watch them bloom in the water around me.

Finally, gingerbread cake with lemon sauce. I could have happily lapped that lemon sauce up like a cat with a saucer of milk. That's not really polite so I was content to drown my cake in the moat of sauce. Greg and N. sipped some cognac, while bonding over manly fodder like baseball and the World Series. It was finally after 10 when we sleepily made our departure. My mom said she wanted to make the blog, so mamma, this one is for you two! That's one heck of a man you've got.