Guest post by David Anderson (…we just call him Dad)
There are big recipes and little recipes. Last night I went into New York City to have dinner with Maggy and Andy. We got the big recipe right.
Maggy and Andy’s dinner invitation was issued in pity. Pam is on the road promoting her new book and I am alone. So they invited the old man to come for the evening. I arrived after a long day, parked my car in the garage beneath their building and rode the elevator to the 20th floor. Maggy opens the door. I receive her hug and kiss, then look out over the lights of dusk to the East River.
We walk fifteen minutes to a place called Uva, take stools at the bar because free hot hot d’oeuvres are offered there, and order a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. In a moment Andy arrives from work. Over chill-fogged glasses of wine they regale me with stories of Andy’s friends Biff and Dave’s visit from England, and the all-night cabaret where the party of twelve ordered vodka not by the glass but by the bottle—and the tale of the astonishing bill presented in the wee small hours. Funny how a week turns shock and horror into big laughs.
Then it’s time to walk home and rustle up our supper. Maggy has already bought some nice wild shrimp, and we are set to make Shrimp Scampi. We stop at a liquor store with only a few wines in the cooler and buy a bottle of what seems like a crisp white wine, and in a moment I am standing on their six-by-three foot balcony. When I look south I see an endless procession of white headlights pouring up First Avenue, and when I turn north I see red tail lights forever. I love this sliver of a balcony, and the view from 200 feet above this throbbing metropolis.
Andy uncorks our white wine, and it’s a blunder. We’ve picked up an Italian white called Moscato. What do we know? Moscato looks fine to us. But one treacly taste tells us: Moscato is Italian for Muscat. There’s a leftover bottle of something in the fridge, and that suffices. Who cares? We’re together.
We make the Scampi, but the angel hair acts like a Turkish towel, soaking up all the liquid. It’s, um . . . dry. But who cares? We make a recipe note and serve up. What’s not to like about angel anything? How far wrong can you go with luscious pink shrimp? At odd moments, I go hug my daughter. Just because. When Andy dials up Pandora.com and the music starts, Maggy and I dance. Why not?
The little recipe we got mostly wrong—bad wine, dry Scampi. But the big recipe we got right. Have you ever noticed how this works? Getting the little recipe perfect can never save a big recipe gone bad (yet we spend most of our time trying to get all the details of life perfect). But when we tend to the important things, the little stuff is just that. Remember that the next time you make Shrimp Scampi with angel hair and Moscato.
Aw Dave, I just love this post. Just as much as I loved Breakfast Epiphanies. So much of your beautiful soul shines through. Your girls (all three of them!) sure are blessed to have you in their life. (And so are James and I!)
This is extremely inspiring.
I have gone through many periods where I am overly focused on getting the ‘small recipes; of life *right, while knowing that the ‘bigger recipes are suffering’. I then have to refocus, and shift my energy away from the things that are not overly important- and towards what I KNOW is critical… what I do want to get right. I have started to struggle with this recently, and woke up knowing that today is the day to get back on track. This is a perfect way to put into words, what was heavily weighing on my mind.
Thank you (and I would really like to see more ‘guest posts’ from you!!).
What a fantastic perspective. So glad Mr.ThreeManyCooks shared this story that reminds us that in the end, the little things really don’t matter.
Oh, I love this! So true! Perfect reminder in this crazy-paced world. Lovely post David (I met you this summer at the BSP).
your dad is totally charming 🙂
Oh Daddy-o! This illustration of you just makes me grin every time I see it. It captures you so perfectly.
Haven’t I always told you that angel hair is the devil?! Now do you see?
Anyway, I love this post. You have been the calm eye of the hurricane before many of our dinner parties. You’re a cook, but more often you’re the dishwasher, table-setter, last-minute grocery-shopper, music-selector, and candle-lighter. You do all the things that make sharing food beautiful. So, thanks for reminding us to slow down and stop worrying about the little recipes. After all, we’ve got the makings of a pretty great dish in our family, huh?
P.S. I can’t believe you made the same wine mistake you and mom made all those years ago. I know that story better than most of my own. Sweet white? With fish? Eeek!
P.P.S. You owe ME a dance.
Preciousness, and having met Dad in person, I’m struck by the likeness of the illustration!
I’m so glad you have daughters, Mr. Anderson. You did done good.
Dad, you were not invited in pity. I couldn’t have been more excited to have you…just you….come to our place for dinner. What a night – you’re right – we got the big recipe right. Even the worst food and wine can be righted by the best company. But I guess, from now on, let’s stick to lamb shanks – that’s our dish anyway and it turns out right every time. And I still love angel hair (Turkish towel or not), I don’t care what mom and Shaz say. Love you!
Love the illustration! It is amazing how absolutely perfectly it captures you, Mr. Anderson. Loved the opportunity to meet you in your lovely home and always love seeing your “girls”!
And absolutely, the big recipes are the most important.
Sounds like a great night with Dad. He has a great wit, character and love for life like you gals do. A great read, I want in on an “Anderson” dinner party & I would eat the scampi even with angel hair 😉 xo
I love your dad’s perspective and voice. The visual imagery of you dancing with your dad is so precious. Thanks for sharing.
I love this post. Why did I just *know* I’d love Dad too? B & I gotta get to NY/CT for a visit w/ all of y’all sometime soon 🙂
What a lovely post! Having met radiant Maggy, I could imagine every moment of this evening. You put into words exactly how special moments like these can be. I’m guessing that Maggy will be reading this post over and over for many years to come.
David – You and P are in my prayers daily – so thrilled you have the BIG recipe right! XO
Echoing all the other commenters – just love this post! My dad is gone but even if he were here, he’d never, ever dance with me let alone cook w/me. But he would often tease that he taught Paul McCartney how to sing (he couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket!) But he was the rock in our family and I miss him terribly at times. And I have to say it’s wonderful to see how much you all love and appreciate one another – awesome!
While my mom is the one who cooked the most in my family, my father has his specialties… grilling meat, Chinese stir fry, and popping popcorn. Oh… and pancakes.
Love this post and it was just wonderful meeting Maggy this weekend. Looking forward to meeting the rest of the crew!
Aaaaw what a perfect evening…you most definitely had all of the right *ingredients*! Thanks for the reminder that those ingredients stretch way beyond food!
David,
I always enjoy taking a walk down the winding path of your words to reach the smile on my face which tells me you have made your point and I like it. Thanks!
Mark
David,
Just perfect! I know you are a very proud man. You Reep What You Sow!
This is so touching and so true. Our most wonderful moments are those spent with our now mostly grown kids, just hanging out and enjoying each other’s company. Nothing else really matters. Although good food AND good wine helps to bring it all together. Thanks for sharing your sweet story.
This is a cool blog message, I will keep this idea in my mind. If you add more video and pictures because it helps understanding 🙂 ml Kaidanovskij.
loved your post, David. You and Pam definitely got the “big recipe” right. What a joy it is to see you enjoy your girls but also to see the adoration in your daughters’ eyes when they speak of you. Kevin certainly captured your warm smile and twinkling eyes. I agree, we’d love read another post of yours!