An Accomplishment

One of my vacillations that I've come to recognize is my inclination to be very restrained or to be over-exuberant. I prefer restraint. Yet, I often find myself biting at the bit to laud whatever it may be that has given me great thrill, or now stimulates my imagination. Such is my too-often unrestrained admiration for most things Google. On this subject I know I can drive friends and relatives running for the cover of forgotten chores. I can go at length on the value of the concept of personality structure as theorized by Jung and Meyrs-Briggs. And I can be very enthusiastic about writing for expression; that is, others' writing, or otherwise pursuing their passion. And so its awfully satisfying for me when I can find such interests as these, coming together in one place. And that satisfaction is ever greater when the confluence of such efforts results in something new and pleasurable.

I belong to a group of friends that for thirty-five years now has put on a Christmas season dinner early in December. That's a commonly shared tradition in this country, and probably around the world. For variation on the theme, we alternate between the women, and the men, grouping every other year to produce this evening meal. If I do say so myself, and -you guessed it- I do, each year, men or the women, its been a feast. We did that again this year. The men cooked, and again, it was a feast. And this this the first year I've been moved -"moved", mind you- to write about this tradition. Why?

I don't cook, but each year that it has been the men's turn, I help with the shopping and the chopping; and I'm really quite good at clean up. You might know. Now, when I say I don't cook, that's true; but ... I do pancakes weekly, I can do peanut butter and jelly, and sandwiches that, really, only I would eat. So, I don't cook. Remember my vacillation between restraint and exuberance I mentioned above? It has taken me a week and a half since this year's dinner to write this. I can hardly wait. I've been biting at the bit for a week; biding my time. Stewing, if you will. I cooked! Successfully.

We men, as do the women, get together for a meal-out shortly before this dinner so as to determine and plan the meal. This year, over BBQ burgers and a beer, we quite quickly came to decision on the main course: Beef stroganoff. We almost as quickly came to a simple green salad and a tomato-basil bisque, sans crustaceans. What about dessert? Why, I can only guess, I suggested a chocolate-cake-or-something-like-that. Amongst the others there was a strained pause. Socially intuitive as I am, I just knew they were waiting for something more specific in that suggestion. Before I could suck it back into my mouth, I impulsively -and very casually, I might add- said, "I'll come up with one; I'll do it". These guys are my friends, and indeed socially intuitive, and said, "ok, sounds good". Yikes!

Later I realized that only few days before I'd had a piece of my daughter-in-law's very good chocolate cake. I'm sure I had some undigested notion that included me getting the recipe from her, and/or, asking her to do the cake. Oh, that's not fair! I thought and thought; I mulled, and then I knew. We have a friend who cooks, writes, and posts on Blogger! I've had her desserts. And I've read her blog (Jan 9 2009). And I remembered -not a small feat for me, some would say- that one of her blogs included a chocolate cake. I was wrong about what was chocolate. It was a torte.

One crucial item was using a removable-bottom torte pan. My wife, Anna, cooks and bakes like a pro, and has so many tools. But no torte pan. On a cold winter day, I went shopping. I shopped JC Penny's and Target in an effort to avoid ..... Williams-Sonoma where I would surely be embarrassed. Neither Penney's nor Target had a torte pan, though in ignorance, I almost bought a spring-form cake pan. I swallowed, walked into the wind and went to ...."W-S". There, I was greeted by a respectful sales person who recognized me as a "man on a mission". In ten minutes I was out of the store with a pan that I was confident was the one Domenica called for in her recipe.

On the afternoon of the dinner, as the stroganoff, salad and bisque were being prepared, I occupied a space at the kitchen counter, with full focus on the recipe. That recipe was so good, and more than that, so well written, the tore went together like magic. No sweat!

Once again, a long-standing, newly accepted vacillation worked in my favor. It all came together. The dinner was again a feast, perfectly topped by a touted chocolate torte. And just to "prove it" -as we used to say shooting baskets- I proved the recipe and the doing again today for Anna to take to a gathering of her friends for dinner. And a third is in the planning. So, to you, Domenica, I say Thank You for your recipe, and your writing. Thank You Very Much.