Have you ever had one of those days that starts out smoothly and you imagine a decent finish and then, all of sudden, it slips out of your hands and dips this way and that and it’s exciting and your friend is here to visit whom you haven’t seen in a long time and the planning meeting you attend takes off and the delivery you were expecting is late and another friend is here to pick up food and the phone rings and the man is here to talk about cheese and... and...and...when you finally emerge out of all of the confusion, you realize that it’s been a pretty good day with a lot of exciting possibilities ahead. Well, I just had a day like that. When I finally biked home, I walked in the house and said to Jim, “Do you want to walk at the park? I think I really need it tonight.” So off we went and as we walked through the woods and grasses, birds around us settling in, I slowly began to quiet my mind and my body enough that I started to think about supper. My energy zapped by the day, I suggested the easy way out--Chinese take-out. As we climbed out of the swamp and paused to look for frogs or turtles, Jim reminded me that we had some pork chops in the refrigerator from “our pig”. He suggested we go home and see what we could come up with for supper.
This is what we found: some new Carola baby potatoes from Dale’s booth at the market, a small bag of pole beans, fresh peaches and yellow onions from Creekside Farms and those famous pork chops. No longer in any hurry, we started up the oven. Jim washed and quartered the potatoes into the green square ceramic dish, tossed them with some olive oil ( a gift from our friends, the Buhrts) and dried herbs brought back from France given to us by the shopkeeper where I bought our colourful tablecloths. Dish number one went into the oven.
I pulled out the pork chops, remembering the time I went to see the pig running about on a summer morning. I laid them in our glass dish. Then I sliced the onion into thin rings and put some on each of the pork chops. A pinch of salt, a spoonful of brown sugar and a tiny bit of catsup went on next. Then, I took some fresh peaches left from my peach canning spree. I cut them in half, pitted them and peeled them carefully. I sliced them onto the pork chops. I decided that would be good enough. I covered the dish with tinfoil and it went into the oven. Half an hour later, as the smell of goodness slowly made its way to our nostrils, I peeked into the oven, stirred the potatoes and took the foil off of the pork chops. Then I tackled the pole beans, washed them and snapped off the ends then put them to steam on the stovetop.
For another half hour, while the stove did its magic, I read the paper and Jim caught up on our e-mail messages. We both emerged from our worlds ready for a true feast. We set the table as darkness enveloped the world, warmed by the stove and the smells in the air. There seemed to be one missing element until I remembered the bottle of wine I had put to chill in the refrigerator. A friend of Jim’s who collects wine had given him a 1995 bottle of Chablis. As I poured it, we marveled at its beautiful colour, and then later, at its complex flavour, a perfect accompaniment to the simple dishes we dug into. As we enjoyed the pleasures of the table, we reflected on the food and its origins, mostly local and provided by friends. We decided we would partake of this over Chinese take-out any day. And so I discovered again that it’s easy to let hurry lead to hurry. But if I slow down, that’s when I will truly enjoy life and what it has to offer.
P.S. The recipe is self-enclosed above.
Published in the Goshen News, September 15, 2008
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