Good morning. I’d like to be writing today from the bridge of a tuna boat, crouched over the keyboard in shorts and deck boots, the cuffs of my shirt absorbing the sweat on my wrists. It’d be a quiet time, waiting on the tide, far out to sea, high sun rising and maybe fish with it, and excitement for hours. Then: tuna poke for dinner, accompanied by yarning about the trip over cold beers and homemade ice cream bars for dessert. The words would flow.
I’m not, of course. As you read this, I’m riding a desk in hard shoes and a blazer, corporate ID hanging from my belt, with meetings on the horizon like storm clouds, like warships. I’ll grab a couple of hot dogs for lunch, a papaya drink to aid digestion, and I’ll be on the telephone the rest of the day looking for news.
That’s all right, though. Dinner can still be a dream. I don’t need fresh tuna. I’d be just as happy with a plate of sweet and spicy tofu with soba noodles, served at room temperature rather than hot. I’d thrill to curried swordfish with tomatoes, greens and garlic toast even if I didn’t catch the fish myself.
And, man, do I have a good dessert. I was up in Maine last week, talking with Catherine Brown Collins at the Champlain Institute about the role food plays in diplomacy (as one does), and afterward we had lunch on a deck overlooking Frenchman Bay. Then came about the best sweet dish I’ve had this summer: pound cake with whipped cream and a small pile of perfect, tart blueberries of the sort that always remind me of “Blueberries for Sal.”
I’m thinking you could make that for yourself sometime this week: Jennifer Steinhauer’s pound cake (above); Jason Epstein’s whipped cream (bail on the vanilla infusion, I think); and the best blueberries or best any sort of berries you can find. It’s such a good way to end a meal.
The most important thing, though, is to be at the table, hearing stories from those you serve, listening to accounts of achievements and grievous losses, to observations about the world, both the natural and bureaucratic one. That is why we eat together, after all, as much as to experience the delicious.
So you could make country captain, cover the table with condiments to dress it, and talk about the future or the past. If you’re not into the pound cake, you could make lemon-blueberry bars. It’s not a project unless you want it to be, an activity around which to build an evening with children or roommates, while eating pizza brought to you on a bike, and hearing about This Crazy Thing That Happened. You could make a spicy watermelon salad with pineapple and lime, then eat it outside somewhere you can watch the swallows working in the twilight, a family themselves, squabbling joy, like yours.
One-pan shrimp enchiladas verde? The greenest green salad? Skillet lasagna with spinach and summer squash? It doesn’t matter what you make for dinner, so long as you gather those you can to talk and share and above all to listen as you eat, together. Thus it is written.
But I know. You’re just looking for a recipe for vinegar chicken with crisp-roasted mushrooms because that’s what you want. Well, we have it! We have thousands more. Just go browse NYT Cooking and see what appeals. (You need a subscription to do that. Sorry!) You can find even more ideas for what to cook on our Facebook page, on Instagram, Twitter and YouTube as well. Pin us on Pinterest. Look around.
