Mar 13·edited Mar 13Liked by Mari, the Happy Wanderer
Ha! Loved this one and I agree with you, as usual—though I was a happier man before you introduced me to butter boards.
I'll offer my middle ground: I keep sourdough in the freezer and wine in the cupboard. When people come over, I warm some bread and serve it with wine and one tasteful, less-is-more accompaniment. Olive oil with black pepper and fresh lemon zest, butter whipped with a bit of parmesan, that kind of thing. If I can't make it while the bread is in the oven it's too complex.
To your point, nobody wants to stare down the barrel of a ten-item charcuterie board at 3 p.m. Bread, olive oil, and a glass of wine (or espresso if it's morning) seems much more inviting to me.
I really like this, Mari. Cooking and baking for others is a way I indulge my creativity, but I can also feel the burden of expectations, even if they are more in my head than actually spoken aloud. One thing I’ve tried to get comfortable with is I don’t make coffee in the house, only tea (because I don’t like coffee all that much). I worry about it for guests, but I tell myself it’s OK, and people who come over a lot know I won’t have coffee for them. Sometimes they bring their own (for brunch), which is fine by me! Also, I always loved your coffee during our long ago play dates—which shows it’s the company as well as the food that makes time together enjoyable.
Sometime you should get hold of that midcentury gem, “The I Hate to Cook Cookbook”, which your cheery post reminded me of. It’s not quite what it sounds: it really is a book of recipes, with attitude, even amusing. I keep it for nostalgia and as a potential
survival guide. She could be the spirit of the anti-potlatch though not of an anti-potluck movement. Potluck I think she would approve. One woman, one dish! Forgot her name.
Apr 17·edited Apr 17Liked by Mari, the Happy Wanderer
I think one difference is that for many Americans - our grandmothers grew up in large families. I expect that all through her Missouri girlhood my maternal grandmother socialized principally with relatives, which pretty much everyone within a few miles was, in some fashion. You don't try to impress your sister when she casually drops by ...
(A woman I worked with and liked, on the subject of whom we went to prom with: her cousin - this in an Iowa farming community. The farmgirl in her showed up in this, as well - she didn't understand having a dog in the house, and didn't seem like she would ever do that.)
My husband's grandmother I think of as almost a recluse - she was not a clubwoman, and disenchanted with the Church of Christ for peculiar reasons, she was not a churchgoer. So she was an anomaly in her small town, having as friends - apart from a period when she worked and would have had that acquaintance - really only her hairdresser, the woman who helped her at the bank, with whom she occasionally lunched - and rather formal relations with her neighbor, Mrs. Touchstone, who either was much older than she or else she regarded as her social superior. I would hear reference to Mrs. Touchstone, after entering the family, and once inquired "how long has Mrs. Touchstone lived across the street?" [meaning, how have they never gotten onto a first-name basis?!]. Oh, forty years or more. Eventually, it was she who found Mrs. Touchstone's body.
So she was a little bit socially crippled. But - she had (had had) numerous siblings, and nieces and nephews, including a less-favorite sister in town. There were family reunions and frequent funerals. She felt no lack because this large extended family along with her own was her social world.
It may have been thus for lots of people. And even with neighbors, when one drops in - there's no expectation that there should be anything, beyond coffee at most and once-upon-a-time, cigarettes.
So the insecurity may also be born of atomization, a little bit. We aren't quite as close to the people we are close enough to break bread with. Or quite as comfortable with them, though hopefully that develops in time.
I feel this so much! Having been treated to warm hospitality and lavish spreads, I feel compelled to do more, but I don’t have the gift of being a perfect hostess—so the stress! We need to go back to something less instagram-worthy and sustainable so we can invite people over to our lived-in house on a whim and enjoy spontaneous gatherings where the food is small and the laughs and warmth are big.
The only reason I serve more than one thing when a group of people comes over is that some of my friends have dietary restrictions, and I cannot always make one thing that will cover all the requirements. I usually bake one item and then also set out one kind of cut fruit or berries and a bowl of nuts.
I love this and I adore the Maniscalco bit. My best friend in high school used to tease us because whenever anyone left the house after a visit the whole family would go to the door and wave.
Once, a couple of guy friends stopped by the house and my dad, little brother (in pjs), and the family dog stayed in the foyer with us the whole time. 😂
Ha! Loved this one and I agree with you, as usual—though I was a happier man before you introduced me to butter boards.
I'll offer my middle ground: I keep sourdough in the freezer and wine in the cupboard. When people come over, I warm some bread and serve it with wine and one tasteful, less-is-more accompaniment. Olive oil with black pepper and fresh lemon zest, butter whipped with a bit of parmesan, that kind of thing. If I can't make it while the bread is in the oven it's too complex.
To your point, nobody wants to stare down the barrel of a ten-item charcuterie board at 3 p.m. Bread, olive oil, and a glass of wine (or espresso if it's morning) seems much more inviting to me.
I really like this, Mari. Cooking and baking for others is a way I indulge my creativity, but I can also feel the burden of expectations, even if they are more in my head than actually spoken aloud. One thing I’ve tried to get comfortable with is I don’t make coffee in the house, only tea (because I don’t like coffee all that much). I worry about it for guests, but I tell myself it’s OK, and people who come over a lot know I won’t have coffee for them. Sometimes they bring their own (for brunch), which is fine by me! Also, I always loved your coffee during our long ago play dates—which shows it’s the company as well as the food that makes time together enjoyable.
Sometime you should get hold of that midcentury gem, “The I Hate to Cook Cookbook”, which your cheery post reminded me of. It’s not quite what it sounds: it really is a book of recipes, with attitude, even amusing. I keep it for nostalgia and as a potential
survival guide. She could be the spirit of the anti-potlatch though not of an anti-potluck movement. Potluck I think she would approve. One woman, one dish! Forgot her name.
I think one difference is that for many Americans - our grandmothers grew up in large families. I expect that all through her Missouri girlhood my maternal grandmother socialized principally with relatives, which pretty much everyone within a few miles was, in some fashion. You don't try to impress your sister when she casually drops by ...
(A woman I worked with and liked, on the subject of whom we went to prom with: her cousin - this in an Iowa farming community. The farmgirl in her showed up in this, as well - she didn't understand having a dog in the house, and didn't seem like she would ever do that.)
My husband's grandmother I think of as almost a recluse - she was not a clubwoman, and disenchanted with the Church of Christ for peculiar reasons, she was not a churchgoer. So she was an anomaly in her small town, having as friends - apart from a period when she worked and would have had that acquaintance - really only her hairdresser, the woman who helped her at the bank, with whom she occasionally lunched - and rather formal relations with her neighbor, Mrs. Touchstone, who either was much older than she or else she regarded as her social superior. I would hear reference to Mrs. Touchstone, after entering the family, and once inquired "how long has Mrs. Touchstone lived across the street?" [meaning, how have they never gotten onto a first-name basis?!]. Oh, forty years or more. Eventually, it was she who found Mrs. Touchstone's body.
So she was a little bit socially crippled. But - she had (had had) numerous siblings, and nieces and nephews, including a less-favorite sister in town. There were family reunions and frequent funerals. She felt no lack because this large extended family along with her own was her social world.
It may have been thus for lots of people. And even with neighbors, when one drops in - there's no expectation that there should be anything, beyond coffee at most and once-upon-a-time, cigarettes.
So the insecurity may also be born of atomization, a little bit. We aren't quite as close to the people we are close enough to break bread with. Or quite as comfortable with them, though hopefully that develops in time.
I feel this so much! Having been treated to warm hospitality and lavish spreads, I feel compelled to do more, but I don’t have the gift of being a perfect hostess—so the stress! We need to go back to something less instagram-worthy and sustainable so we can invite people over to our lived-in house on a whim and enjoy spontaneous gatherings where the food is small and the laughs and warmth are big.
Company is Coming is my go-to for making my mom calm down over her hostessing, complete with the same line. "We can't let people know we SIT!"
The only reason I serve more than one thing when a group of people comes over is that some of my friends have dietary restrictions, and I cannot always make one thing that will cover all the requirements. I usually bake one item and then also set out one kind of cut fruit or berries and a bowl of nuts.
I am in full agreement and will be doing this myself!!!
I love this and I adore the Maniscalco bit. My best friend in high school used to tease us because whenever anyone left the house after a visit the whole family would go to the door and wave.
Once, a couple of guy friends stopped by the house and my dad, little brother (in pjs), and the family dog stayed in the foyer with us the whole time. 😂
"And how do you clean the greasy board afterwards?" Have you no dog, Madam?