It's been a family tradition for as long as I can remember that once a month all of the adults get together for what is called Family Supper. Every month someone different plays host, and has to hold it at their home.
Being host is kind of a big deal to me. Even though hosting duties are only mine about once a year, I kept Family Supper in mind when house-hunting. I wanted to make sure I would have room for a large enough table. Kitty, my sister, does not think that far ahead, and when it was her turn to host at her condo, half of us had to eat off of folding tables in the living room.
Of course Kitty's turn was doomed from the beginning. Even if she could cook, which she can't (dinner was takeout Chinese), there's the other tradition that goes with Family Supper that meant failure was the only option.
Every month, without fail, someone starts a fight. Last month it was Uncle Larry who asserted that the president was both a Muslim, and the Antichrist. Kitty's month was ruined when our cousin, Becky, started a debate with her brother, Ralph, about “Twilight”. My all time favourite was from last year though, when my mother tried to assert that the Iraqis like being occupied. I like this one because it involved the question “What about when they invaded us?”
This month would be different. I didn't spend the entire day making a meal that would make Thanksgiving look away in shame just to have it ruined by bickering. I had made a plan.
Why do I get so involved in this tradition? The answer is simple: I love cooking (cleaning up is another story). Cooking appeals to me because it's exactly like chemistry, which is my bread and butter to begin with.
You say cooking and chemistry aren't the same? Think about it; you add a little of chemical/food A, a little of chemical/food B, and a dash of chemical/seasoning C, expose it to the right temperature for the right amount of time, and you get something fantastic. Both also lend themselves to experimentation, and I love expirimenting.
The highlights of this month's supper were smoked spinach salad for starters, fresh salmon with garlic butter which cooked had all day in the sous vide, and liquid popcorn with a caramel froth for desert. Of course not everyone is as adventurous as I am, so I had the more traditional roast turkey, green beans, mashed potatoes, fresh rolls, macaroni and cheese, and three different homemade pies for them. I also had a very special wine; very, very special. I don't do things by halves.
I had just turned off the turkey roaster, and was starting to smoke the spinach when the doorbell rang. I checked the clock only to discover that I was not running late, but that someone was early. I was not surprised to discover that it was Uncle Larry, Aunt Doris, Becky, and Ralph . I sat them in the living room so that I would not have to listen to them criticize my décor while I finished cooking.
Kitty arrived next, just as I was straining the popcorn. She offered to help, but I was almost done, and I didn't want her screwing anything up. Next was my cousin, Maddy, and her husband, Tracy, and their eighteen year old daughter, Andi. This would only be Andi's third Family Supper, and I hoped she would enjoy it more than the last two.
Right on time (I'm pretty sure they wait out front, and knock right at six), mom, dad, grandma, grandpa, and Aunt Ginny all showed up. I had Kitty show them into the dining room, and then started bringing out the food.
“This all looks so good!” mom commented.
“Why does the salad smell burnt?” Ginny asked, sniffing it.
Finally it was time to bring out the most important item: the wine. I poured everyone a glass from one of great-grandma's crystal decanters, except for Andi. Being underage, Andi got a Coke. No one drank yet, as part of the tradition was that the host had to make a toast.
I stood at the head of the table, glass raised, and spoke to my family, “Before we eat, I want to thank everyone for coming, but I do have one request. Family Supper always ends up with hurtful words being flung about, and I would like tonight to be different, even if just for this once.”
Kitty snorted, but everyone raised their glasses towards me, and then drank. I knew the wine was sweet, but not too sweet, making it easy to drink quickly. I placed my still full glass down on the table, and watched as they emptied theirs.
“Wow, this is good wine,” Larry commented, draining his glass, “What is it?”
“Something I made special; notice anything unusual about it?”
Larry tried to answer, but no sound came. His hands gripped his throat as panic filled his eyes. He tried to speak again, but nothing came out; just air. I watched as a similar look of horror filled the eyes of the rest of my family. Their mouths formed words, but the only sound in the dining room was their rushed breathing.
Andi looked at me, curious. I smiled, winked at her, and motioned for her to start eating; smoked spinach salad is best eaten while still cold.
As my family continued to make animated, but silent protestations, I sat down. I knew when their voices returned in a couple of hours I would probably be disowned, but for that moment, for the first time ever, I was going to have a quiet Family Supper.