I am back in New York. My bags are unpacked and I have done my laundry, which is an event, because there is no washing machine at my house and I am too cheap to take it to the cleaners. It has been a few days, so I am waking up at 4:30 in the morning instead of 2:00.
I am cooking the most basic things I know. Chicken pot pie and pea soup. I could use a roast beef and popovers with buttered and honeyed carrots. Macaroni and cheese. A pork chop. Butterscotch pudding and whipped cream. I might pop some corn in a pan and drown it in butter.
Saturday I have to put my chef suit on and French it up, but until then I just want home.
In case you are in the mood to travel, Saturday’s Plan:
The beauty of Gabriel Hamilton’s food stirs my insides, so to get me going I am starting with her Planked Tomatoes and browned butter
Then I will walk in with the First.
Buckwheat galette, Roquefort, schmear of cold unsalted butter under a rip of fresh basil or I am going to stir the roquefort into a little heavy cream and finish it with creme fraiche. It will settle people into their chairs.
Pan seared and roasted chicken with so many cloves of garlic and wild mushrooms
Salad and cheese course.
Greens with fresh herbs and classic vinaigrette
Cheese—I have to wait and see what moves me at Murray’s
Marrons Glace—there is never a guarantee guests will like these, but at this point in the meal they need the boost of getting fired up talking about how much they love or hate, oversugared chestnuts
Apple tart and creme anglaise
I am thinking of serving a red wine pear sorbet in the living room when they come in the door. Risky, but it is good to remind people there is another way of doing things.
Knee socks are cute with a skirt. It doesn’t always have to be stockings.