What I Miss

Yes, it'd be nice to cook a perfect Beurre Blanc or Bavarian Creme. It'd be swell to wrap a boned duck in pastry decorated with little frills or crank out sheets of fresh pasta and make ravioli. All that, cooking, eating, is wonderful.

But when I think of the best meals I've had, I often can't remember what I ate. It was the people, the laughter, the big group gathered around the table, maybe on a summer night in France deep in the heart of the Auvergne, or last Thanksgiving at my moms, or even a bunch of cater-waiters, giddy from a long shift hunkering down with plates of leftovers at someone else's wedding, commiserating over this annoying guest or making obnoxious comments about the maid of honor.

I think that's what's missing from this whole food equation, for me personally. I'd rather have a pizza with two or three people I genuinely love, or at least who make me laugh- then vichysoise
done to perfection all by myself.

Is this me angling for a dinner invitation? Absolutely.
I'll bring wine and dessert.