Dinner with Intention
a voyeuristic view of Table for Six
Back in January I just had to have dinner with some ladies. The winter had been rough. Nothing visible—on the outside everything was really great—but internally, I was having a moment of collapse. November had been the kick-off to this personal maelstrom as it brought both the feeling of failure from the launch of a program I had had higher hopes for, and the results of the US presidential elections. I knew what those results were going to mean for the country as a whole(at least, according to historical precedent), and I was mired in a pity party of impotence.
Something had to change. I could not stay in this place. So, I called Zuni Cafe and made reservations for six. Then, I wrote an email to some of the grown women I respect the most who might be up for a political conversation potentially serving practical solutions. Much to my deep satisfaction, everyone said yes, even if they couldn’t make the date. I needed that. I needed that approval and I needed it to be easy.
We had dinner together, and it was lovely. My friend is a local Sommelier who took us on a ride with the wines and food, while we all introduced ourselves, shared life stories, shared concerns for what was to come, shared actions we’ve taken and our particular niches of passion, and we shared laughter. I walked away filled up from more than just the meal. I was buoyed in a way that infused me with vitality.
I knew I wanted that again. I knew I wanted it soon, and I knew there were some things I wanted to change. First, it was in a restaurant, and unless you are a table in a private room, that gets loud. Also, when one is talking about sensitive material, the public nature of a restaurant can be confronting for some. I basically lived in restaurants for multiple decades, so have zero concern about being heard making vulnerable statements, or seen openly weeping, but I get that for some this is a thing. Then there was structure. I wanted to discuss certain topics, and while I did not want to dominate the evening with uber control, I did want to ensure that we hit certain milestones and made it to a set destination.
Hence, this most recent iteration of Table for Six.
We opened the evening with introductions and intentions—it was an evening of intention, after all! Once all the ladies were gathered, we had our first toast over shots of Zbiotics. Then, moved swiftly on to sharing who we were, and why we were here. What was it about this evening that had each of us say Yes.
I, personally, had just landed back home from a week spent in Denver at a business retreat where this very material of personal initiation was on topic. At the very last lunch spent with a few of the fellow attendees, we visited a restaurant that had an appetizer with za’atar spiked honey drizzled over labneh. Inspiration struck, and I put this on the menu.
Appetizer
Honeyed cherries over labneh with warm pita
Served with
Champagne
Famille Mousse Eugene
Start by toasting the za’atar to bloom the aromatics. Add to taste with local, unfiltered raw honey. Pit and dice cherries to ¼”. Marry with a couple splashes of a high quality sherry vinegar, salt and fresh ground pepper, and one minced shallot. Mix thoroughly, transfer to a mason jar to store up to three days. Continue to mix throughout the day until served to ensure the strongest infusion.
Once it is time to serve, heat sliced pita, schmear the labneh on the base of a plate and heap the steeped cherries over the top. Enjoy!
The ‘Merican Salad saw us through all the explanations and backgrounds and side chatter that always comes with a haram of hens. I shared that one of the reasons I was so devastated with the election was my patriotism. Yes, I said it. My patriotism. For many years now, I have avoided that term. It makes me cringe so hard. It’s a term that has been co opted and branded in a certain way that just doesn’t sit well; it’s not reflective of my love for my homeland, and what I was raised to believe She stands for. However, when I examine my passion what shows up is the ideals of this country I was raised with, and the erasure of all that I found truly great about our nation—ideals like democracy for all, justice for all, personal freedoms for all, and the compassion, forethought, and leadership to know that investing in things like social services was an investment in the nation's prosperity. Part of why I wanted us to gather together was to help ensure those patriotic ideals survive this dumpster fire.
Salad
Little gems, shredded carrots, sliced radishes, crispy bacon lardons, toasted pepitas(because Mexicans are an integral part of the functions of this country and the health of its infrastructure), tossed very lightly in the restaurant Souvla’s Granch dressing(a yogurt based ranch)
Over pasta we talked about adulthood. The Mayans say we humans aren’t truly adults until we reach 52, 13 years in each direction of the medicine wheel. This idea was met with enthusiastic support around the table. What also was talked about was what moves us from childhood to adulthood. What are those defining features of adulting? And, what are the moments that called us into that role? For me, it was my first menses, my first sexual encounter, sure. But, it was also that dinner I had with my husband postpartum where I discovered in the dark of night that I really was now a mother, that someone else was dependent on me for life, and that my life very much mattered. It was a moment of knowing that I would never be free in the same way that I was prior to having a child—and that was both good, and bad. That was both happy and sad.
The premise was that initiation is usually born of pain, but it is also an occasion when we rise. We take that sack of shit and we plant a seed of new possibility in it, knowing that shit is really just good compost that hasn’t had time to mellow yet.
Pasta
Shelled fresh English peas, bias cut strips of asparagus, spring onions—both red and white, crushed garlic, white wine, lemon juice, butter to finish.
Served with
Wine
Domaine Overnoy Côtes du Jura
Start with a hot cauldron. Add high quality EVOO, then sweat your onions. I like them sweet, so I saute until almost caramelized, then add garlic and sweat that allium, too. Add a lot of white wine and reduce to almost nothing. Not “almost nothing”, almost “almost nothing”. Finish by adding the peas and asparagus, along with the lemon juice and let everything simmer and steam until the veg is at your desired tenderness. I like a more al dente experience, so I reduce my white wine much more before adding the veg. That gives me just about 60 seconds before I thicken the sauce with the best European style butter. Salt and pepper to taste. We ate this on a bed of fresh fettuccine, garnished with shaved parmesan and chopped parsley.
As we moved through the courses, the natural question was, “What wants to move in us?”
This feels like such an important distinction, those semantics. What wants to move, instead of what are we moving. When entering ceremonies such as this, often we are in the state of mind to impart our will. But, one of the areas of attention I wanted us to reflect on while we dined was what had been showing up in our lives between the time we reserved our seat, and the time of the actual ceremony. It would seem that the magic starts to happen(for all of us) as soon as we take that first step. Oftentimes this can look like signing the contract, or paying the fee, but it can look like making the reservation and adding the date to your calendar. If we listen carefully, life has its own design. If we pay the proper attention, what wants to move, the initiation that wants to be had, will be presented. We don’t have to force it. It will move on its own with just one step over the threshold, one puff of steam in just the right place.
For me, the initiation process began when I set the date for this event, and started the sales process. It will likely never stop amazing me how the chosen material works the host the most. So mote it be. Sales doesn’t come super easily for me, especially on the heels of launching a course that I was viewing as a failure. By the time I got to Denver for my business course, I was most of the way complete with selling this event, and noticing my inner landscape around this side of entrepreneurship. As this dinner approached, it became very obvious that the initiation into adulthood for this grown ass woman was intimately linked to what was blocking me in my business. In order for me to deepen my initiation into adulthood, in this moment, the call is to move from reactive to proactive, to move from self-deprecation to unconditional self-love. Just that.
Entree
Seared Klingeman Farms pork loin with brandied peaches over creamed sweet potatoes
Served with
Bourgogne Epineuil Dominique Gruhier 2023
Peel Japanese white sweet potatoes, cube, simmer in chicken stock until tender. Strain off the liquid, but save it. Add potatoes to Vitamix(any silly blender will do, even an immersion blender). Add Alexandre Family Farm A2 sour cream. Blend until smooth, adding the stock back until desired consistency. These were creamy for us, but my preference would have been to have had them a little looser.
Bring loins to room temp. Dry on a dish towel. Roll in a mixture of granulated garlic, herbs de Provence(with lavender), salt, pepper. Sear on a flat top and throw in a 400 degree oven(NON-convection) for about 15 minutes, give or take. Let rest for another 7-10 minutes. Slice and serve over puree.
The peaches I received were underripe. At first, I was not super thrilled(for those of you who know current or former chefs, you know what this means). Then, after scoring, blanching forever, shocking, then peeling, and ½” cubing, I began to see their potential. Mince shallot and garlic(separate, not together. We aren’t barbaric). Heat up a thick walled saucepan. Cheap pans with thin walls are garbage and should only be used for dying fiber. Add you cubed, hard-as-fuck peaches. Once those have cooked for a moment, add shallots and sweat. Add garlic and sweat. We add garlic last because it has so little moisture of its own. It is mostly oils and sugars. Deglaze with a handsome amount of brandy. Reduce. I like a thick sauce, and we will be adding more liquid shortly, so reduce down significantly. Add a cream sherry or Madeira, and… reduce! Finish with some Bonewerk’s Demi Glace, simmer a bit(yes, this is also reducing). Remove from heat and add a few knobs of that best European butter. (Salt and pepper to taste should have been done in the sauteeing phase.)
For dessert, we indulged in chocolate cake, to remind us of the sweetness of life. With this, each woman was presented with her next step, the completion process of this ceremony. She chose a personal bouquet from the table, and her sack of shit. On that bouquet was a butterfly that held a card of seeded paper. On these cards, each woman was to write her intention for the initiation of this moment. What was that special block her soul wanted to walk through right now? Take that card, those intentions, and declare to the world what she was leaving behind, and what she was stepping into.
Dessert
Chocolate cake with Birtite brand’s salted caramel ice cream and cardamom “milk”
Served with
Strong PG Tips tea
The chocolate cake recipe I use is by Add a Pinch. Use that buttercream frosting recipe, too, while you’re at it. I’m a glutard, so I substitute ⅔ Cup4Cup standard blend, and ⅓ of the called-for flour the Cup4Cup Ancient Grains blend since I like the added tooth and protein from the oat flour.
For the cardamom milk, toast some crushed whole green cardamom pods in your saucepan. Add milk. I used almond milk, hence the quotes up above. To this stew, scrape out a pod of vanilla and add to the mix. Use the pod itself in a jar of sugar to use with your tea. Bring to a scald while whisking the vanilla in thoroughly. I also add the smallest touch of sugar to enhance the flavors, but not so much that any sweetness is truly discernible. For this batch I have about 28 ounces of milk to about 1.5 teaspoons of sugar. Once this concoction is cooled to room temp, store in a mason jar in the fridge. I made this three days in advance, and shook the jar every time I opened the fridge. You could probably steep this for up to a week and soak out every spicey inch from those cardamom pods. I served this cold and frothed, and it was a lovely compliment to the rich chocolate, astringent black tea, and creamy caramel ice cream—a digestif, to boot!
At the end of the night, after all the guests had gone, I banged the drum as I did before we began. Part of opening the space and holding the container of this very special evening was to allow time for meditation and to call in the directions. We bang the drum and call on any who want to show us support in this moment, for this ceremony. To close, we say thank you to the Seven Directions and offer the spirit plate from our meal. That night, as I was giving thanks to the final direction—the path inward—there was one flash of lightning, one rumble of thunder. The Wankiya Oyate, the Thunder People, perhaps, signing off to that drum.
