Dinner 5

Familiar Flavors
This was probably the first dinner that I wasn't nervous. Maybe it's because I'm getting used to welcoming perfect strangers into my home or maybe it's because this week's dinner guest seemed almost like a long-lost friend. It's like eating a favorite dish after not having it for a long time: familiar and comfortable.
This salad can be made in a pinch. I used cucumbers, mini-heirloom tomatoes, green onions and feta. And I made a simple dressing from three tablespoons olive oil, juice of half a lemon, and salt and pepper to taste. Served on cute dishes my sister gave me from CB2.

My dinner guest and I immediately began swapping our cooking stories and adventures. He's a freelance graphic designer, but work is trickling to a stop, so he has a lot of time on his hands. He spends it cooking and gardening and making yogurt (as well as looking for a new outdoors-y profession: he took fireman classes, got EMT licensing, scuba diving licensing, and stared skiing again). Last year, he grew lots of different vegetables, including tons of lettuce, which he didn't know what to do with, so whenever he visited a friend, he arrived with a dirty head of lettuce. Later, he found out that there is a ton of lead in the soil where he lives in Oakland. This year, he and his roommate built a garden box.
This easy yet tasty Indonesian Ginger Chicken Recipe comes from the Barefoot Contessa. I served it with coconut rice. My dinner guest told me it could use some broccoli. True.

Animal City
He told me weird stories about farming in the city. Several years ago his roommate came home and said he saw a turkey strutting down the street of West Oakland. And a few months later, another roommate who worked at Eccolo in Berkeley (a fancy restaurant that tries to serve food that comes from a 30 mile radius) came home really excited about a woman who had worked out a deal with the restaurant to supply rabbits and half a pig that she had raised in the city. Only years later did my guest figure out that this was all connected. He read the book Farm City by Novella Carpenter, who lived only a few blocks from him at that time. She raised chickens, ducks, turkeys, rabbits and even two pigs right there in the city. She was the one who exchanged half her pig in order to learn how to make cured meats from the head chef of the restaurant. Small city, big pigs.
My dinner guest brought this homemade yogurt, which he mixed with lemon curd and locally produced honey.

My guest told me about the brilliant strategy of his honey supplier. Not only does the man have numerous hives and a shop where he sells lots of varieties of honey and other things made from it like candles, but he is also the only hive removal service in Northern California. The bee man goes out and collects swarming hives that terrorize homes or neighborhoods, and then he keeps them in order to produce even more honey, which he then sells in his shop.

Manners

Throughout my dinners, I carefully observe the eating habits and movements of my guests in relationship to me and my kitchen. Mostly, they stand about awkwardly and end up not being of much use. Even though this dinner guest was unsure of himself at first, he quickly made himself at home in small ways. He was the only guest so far to take off his shoes, he got more wine out of the fridge without having to ask, he helped himself to seconds before I even offered, and he demanded many spoons while making desert. None of these things are a big deal, but I appreciated them. It made serving a perfect stranger less straining or stressful, and it gave me the chance to relax and just make a friend. And even better yet, he offered to make dinner for me next time. Manners aren't about being proper or polite, but about understanding someone and fitting into the pattern of a friendship.