Dinner 9

You Get What You Put Into It
Much like his quirky attitude in e-mails, my dinner guest this week showed up snappily dressed. He had on dress shoes, white shirt and pants, a black vest, and a bright red tie. He spoke with a charming Australian accent, but the things he said were not charming.

I asked my guest for one food that he liked and one he disliked. I incorporated both into the menu. He likes olives. I made a simple garden salad with cucumber, heirloom tomatoes, almonds and cranberries. The dressing included olive tapenade with olive oil and balsamic.

Although funny and easy enough to talk to, my dinner guest considered himself a little bit of all of the holy trinity of awkward types of people: a dork, a nerd, and a geek. I swore to distance myself from torturous interactions with these people after going to a big engineering school for undergrad. But here I was again: in for the long haul. And although I was entertained, by the end I was more exhausted from the conversation than by the intense meal I had just cooked up.

Ugly Combinations My guest disliked asparagus. To hide it, I made mashed potatoes (with purple and red potatoes) and mixed in pureed asparagus. I also added tons of garlic and butter to hide the taste. It looks sort of disgusting though.

I learned a lot about various conventions: Dr. Who Conventions (“full of fat gays”), Star Trek Conventions (“full of fat straight people with two kids”) and Furry Conventions. He spilled on the latter, when I asked him where he had met most of his friends. He told me that one day he was like, “Hmm. Where could I meet a bunch of interesting, weird people? A Furry Convention of course!” So, he met furries on-line and now he lives with a bunch. There is furry porn all over the walls of his apartment and he brings over people he wants to freak out or scare off. Interestingly enough, he’s not interested in furries sexually and has never hooked up with someone in an animal suit. Probably one of my favorite dishes from this project: Spicy Tuna with Mango Salsa.

He ate slowly because he said he enjoyed the food so much (even though he only took a small spoon of mashed potatoes). In exchange for gulping down my own food (I still haven’t learned any manners) I had to field many questions about obscure things I knew nothing about. For example: “Do you know the origin of winkle toes?” I had no idea what a winkle toes even was. Well, obviously it’s the name for those spiral-toed shoes that elves might wear and the name comes from the object that extracts a winkle from its home (I didn’t know what a winkle was either; it’s a sea creature with a shell like a snail). I also learned about a lot of random, little-known musicians whose names I can’t remember. He said he likes music that's interesting, not necessarily good. I guess I’m glad I can’t remember the names.For dessert: vanilla frozen yogurt with strawberries and a balsamic vinegar reduction. It came out a little thick and solidified when it hit the ice cream. I still can’t get it right.

Blackbirds

He did ask me one question to which I knew the answer. “What’s with the four-and-twenty blackbirds baked in a pie? Can you even fit that many?” I had researched a lot about the history of cookbooks and I learned about an Italian cookbook from the 16th century that has a recipe "to make pies so that birds may be alive in them and flie out when it is cut up." The nursery rhyme was actually based on a recipe. I guess I’ll admit it. I can be a nerd, too. At least when it comes to food.