Three Dinner Guests

Cheerful dinner guests

 

If you could invite three people, living or dead, to dinner with you, whom would you invite?

This is the question that a cousin posed to my 88-year-old aunt, in order to get my aunt’s mind off her troubles.  If memory serves, my aunt would invite FDR, George Washington, and Queen Elizabeth II.  

My aunt and her sister, my mother, were captivated by Elizabeth and Margaret, who were just slightly older.  When I was a girl my mother gave me her book about the princesses, written before 1952 when Elizabeth became queen.  I was intrigued but not overly enamored of royalty.  

At the same age, I was also quite taken with a book my father read from, called Van Loon’s Lives, in which the narrator in fact has dinner with prominent people from long-ago history.  This was my first introduction to a guy named Erasmus.  Most of this book went over my head, because I was unfamiliar with most of the personages and wasn’t very interested in history at that time, but the whole idea of having these people for dinner fascinated me. 

The full title of the book is Van Loon's Lives: Being A True and Faithful Account of A Number of Highly Interesting Meetings With Certain Historical Personages, From Confucius and Plato to Voltaire and Thomas Jefferson, About Whom We Had Always Felt A Great Deal of Curiosity and Who Came to Us as Our Dinner Guests in A Bygone Year.  And the author is Hendrik Willem Van Loon.  

My aunt recently asked my siblings and me the same question about three dinner guests.  My immediate answer was that I would invite my three children.  I said I made this choice because I know I could make a dinner that they would eat, whereas making dinner for Queen Elizabeth II would be too much pressure.  My siblings objected that nobody said that I had to cook the meal.  Yeah, right.  But my real reason is that I immensely enjoy my children’s company (although I’m still not sure if they are ready to dine with the Queen), and it’s been a while since I’ve been in their presence all together.

If I was forced to limit myself to non-family dead-or-alive dinner guests, I suppose my three might be prominent historical figures.  But maybe it would be cool to invite the historians who know all about the historical figures - how about Jill Lepore, Doris Kearns Goodwin, Eddie S. Glaude?  Or Hendrik Willem Van Loon?  Nothing like a good argument among historians over dinner.

I recently had dinner with a man who, when he was a teenager, shook the hand of Malcolm X. Amazing! I guess that’s as close as reality can bring me to having dinner with prominent historical figures.

The cat helping my Dad cook something with
bacon and zucchini, sometime in the 1990s.

Eating Well during Week 1 of Soft Lockdown

Coronavirus Crisis dinners, week 1 of “soft lockdown”, March 16-22 

Monday March 16

For Monday dinner, we had chicken-apple sausages, rice, leftover beets, leftover tuna noodle casserole, and roasted cheesy cauliflower.  High praise for this meal.  Younger Daughter happily ate the cauliflower!

Tuesday – leftovers

Wednesday

YD cooked dinner on Wednesday night, because I had a webinar to attend.  She made baked salmon, mac n cheese, and mixed vegetables (from the freezer).  It was delicious.

Thursday

Dinner was spinach-mushroom-onion quiche, using any kind of cheese we had in the house.  It turned out quite nicely!  Plus a baked potato, and a delicious ripe cantaloupe that the Common Household Husband had gotten a few days earlier, back when he was still going to the grocery every day.

Friday 

Leftover quiche, cantaloupe, plus Shabbat bread.  The shabbat bread was not the expected beautifully shining challah, but a few slices of white bread (it’s the only kind of bread the store had) and bagels. 

Saturday

For dinner on Saturday night, Younger Daughter and I made Mujadara, a Middle Eastern dish of lentils, basmati rice, and caramelized onions.  YD and I loved it; the CHH did not.  We didn’t have the garnishes called for in the recipe (green onions, cilantro, yogurt), but I felt a sense of triumph when I found a jar of mango chutney lurking in the corner of the food shelf in the basement.  So our lockdown garnishes consisted of chutney, hummus, and Bhuja snacks.  Delicious!

Sunday March 22

For dinner we had leftover mujadara.   The Common Household Husband said he would eat his rations because that’s what the times call for.

On Monday March 23, Governor Wolf ordered us to stay at home except for life-sustaining stuff (so, no going out because you have a hankering for lemon cake).  I call it Lockdown (rather than Soft Lockdown) but it isn’t really a total lockdown.

Keep Calm and Carry On Casserole

Since Wednesday I have had a hankering for Mrs. McNally’s Spinach Casserole. Tonight I finally made it. I didn’t have all the ingredients, so I made do. 

The first time I made this casserole, I wrote a note in the recipe.  

Made this on Sep 24, 2019 (the day Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi announced formal impeachment proceedings against President Trump).

So it’s no wonder I had a yearning for it this week.  Wednesday the Senate had their  shameful vote to acquit in President Trump’s impeachment trial.  The President has wasted no time in exacting revenge on his opponents.  Today he fired two of the witnesses, and also a witness’ brother (who was himself not a witness).  I understand that he wouldn't want people who testified against him to be working in his administration.  But you could have them leave quietly, rather than have them escorted out in front of the media.  And it seems to me that retaliating against your opponent’s family is the stuff of despots.

The reason I couldn’t make the casserole on Wednesday was because I had to attend a rally to inform my Senator that I reject his coverup of the President’s abuse of power and obstruction of Congress.  One of my Senators has a deficit of integrity, courage, and democracy.   My other Senator voted to convict.

I owe a debt to Mrs. McNally (whom I may have met once).  Not only does her casserole provide a vegetable in a format that most of my family will eat, but it provides calm and stability on our dinner table. 

I also owe a debt to Marianne and to Tony, who live at opposite ends of the country, without whom I would not have this recipe.  None of us are related to each other or to Mrs. McNally, but all of us have a bond formed through the Music Interest Floor on Wilder 9 and the MIF Annex on Wilder 8, in the early 1980s.

Tonight for dinner I also made fresh-baked bread, from store-bought frozen bread dough.  It tasted fine but it didn’t rise very much so it looked a little odd for a loaf of bread.  The Common Household Husband brought Younger Daughter home from college for a weekend visit.  He saw the bread and said it looked like a manatee, which it kind of did, except without the fins and tail.  The dinner conversation went thusly:

…

Husband:  I’m just tired and worn out tonight.

Younger Daughter:  Like the antelope.

Husband:  What?

YD: Like the antelope being chased by the lions.

Me:  Did you say Yenta Loaf?  I thought maybe you were referring to the bread, which Dad said looks like a manatee.

Husband:  Yenta Loaf – a loaf that knows all your business.

YD:  The Loaf of Knowledge.

.

.

.

YD:   What other news is there?

Me:  Let’s see… I made a speech at the protest on Wednesday.

YD:   What did you say?

Husband:   Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears!  I come not to bury Caesar but to market his merchandise.

YD:   Now $5.99!  New stabby knives!

Husband: Buy here – these coins inscribed with Caesar’s face!

YD:   Buy a pancake that has Caesar’s face burned onto it!

Me:  What?!

YD:   It’s like when people see the image of Jesus in a potato chip.

Me:  Ooooh.  Those people have overactive imaginations.  Besides, what does Jesus look like?  Where’s the original picture of Jesus?

Husband:  We need to dig up the Dead Sea video tapes.  Or ask a Dead Sea Squirrel.

The spinach casserole was very popular and there is none left.  Thanks, Mrs. McNally!

Mrs. McNally’s Spinach Casserole

(the original recipe)

2 packages frozen chopped spinach, defrosted

1 small jar sliced mushrooms (or 2 jars)

2 cups Italian bread crumbs (or 1 cup Bulgar, cooked)

1 tsp salt

1/2 tsp pepper

¼ pound butter

¼ cup Parmesan cheese

1 onion, chopped

1 egg, beaten

Saute onion in butter.  Add rest of ingredients to defrosted spinach.  Place in casserole.  Bake 25 minutes at 350 degrees.  Sprinkle extra cheese and/or bread crumbs on top.

Carolyn’s Keep Calm and Carry On Spinach Casserole

with Deep Gratitude to

Mrs. McNally, Marianne, and Tony

Mrs. McNally must forgive me for what I did to her recipe.

(Disclaimer: Both times I made this, I did not have mushrooms. It would be really great with mushrooms.  I think it would make sense to put in a smaller amount of bread crumbs, if you don’t have the mushrooms.   I also left out the salt, because I don’t like overly salty things, and the bread crumbs and the cheese already have salt in them.  My husband hates when I give food disclaimers like this.  So carry on. And keep calm.)

1 pkg frozen chopped spinach, defrosted.  (drained a little, but not dry).

1 cup Italian bread crumbs (probably should put less)

(I left out the salt and it seemed fine)

¼ tsp pepper

1 Tbsp canola oil or butter for frying onions

1/8 cup Parmesan cheese

1 onion, chopped

2 eggs (otherwise, it was too dry, but if you have the mushrooms, it probably wouldn’t be)

Saute onion in oil or butter.  Add rest of ingredients to defrosted spinach.  Mix thoroughly. Place in greased casserole.  Bake 25 minutes at 350 degrees.  Sprinkle extra cheese and/or bread crumbs on top.  (I forgot to do this, but the clientele ate it all up anyway.)

Bonus: Images of Jesus, not in a potato chip:

A historical dinner moment

Me, attempting to engender dinner conversation that does not include gross scientific stuff: 

What do you think are the five most important moments in history in the past 100 years?

Younger Daughter:

World War I, and World War II.  Was the telephone invented in the past 100 years? 

Me:  I’m pretty sure that was invented before 1919.

YD:  Okay, then, the invention of the internet. The Great Depression, and the Counter-cultural movement of the 1960s.  That’s five.

The Common Household Husband:

The invention of frozen foods was very important.  The invention of air conditioning. Casual Fridays!  Theme parks.  And TV game shows.

Younger Daughter:  Dad, those are not moments in history!

Husband:  They changed my life.

Me:  My turn.  I think the internal combustion engine was invented before 1919.  The invention of antibiotics was very important.  The invention of reliable birth control.   The Holocaust.  The invention of robots – industrial robots.  Hmmm.  And the Cuban Missile Crisis.

Son:

The internet.  That’s for all five.  Can I go now?

A pause in the conversation

A family dinner-time conversation.  

Me:  Finish off the juice.

Son:  The Jews?!

Younger Daughter:  Finish off the Jews?!

Husband, in a somber voice:  It’s been tried before….

* * * * *

Husband:  A man was in a restaurant and ordered sheep’s head.  He told the waiter, “Leave the eyes in, because it has to see us through the week.”

Kids: [groan] 

Me (thinking of the “Survivors of Dad Jokes”video):  That was a great joke…. DAD.

YD (reading my mind): We never should have shown you guys that video about Dad jokes.  … How do you measure different pauses in conversation?

Me: That was a comedic pause.

YD: But there are different lengths of comedic pauses.

Son:  There’s a comedic pause, and a pregnant pause.  There’s an awkward pause.

YD:  There’s dog paws, there’s menopause.

Husband: Santa Pause.

Me:   The pregnant pause and the menopause can only be done by certain kinds of people.

Son:  But not at the same time.

I think we are training them pretty well to take over the Dad jokes responsibility.

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Eating Eye to Eye

or  Dinner With Biologists

We sat down to dinner.  Thanked God for the food.  Then Younger Daughter said excitedly:

YD:  Did I tell you guys about my eyeball dissection?!

Husband (equally excited):  Tell me about it!  I have to give a lecture on the eye tomorrow! I was going to buy eyeballs, but I didn’t get around to ordering them.

YD: The surprising thing was that the cornea is milky and blue!  First, they gave us safety scissors.  We had to cut off the sclera and the fat and muscle surrounding the eye.  It was almost impossible to do with safety scissors! 

Me:  I can tell this is going to be a really appropriate topic for dinner conversation.

Husband:  Why did you have to cut the muscle off?

YD: We had to get into the back guts of the eyeball.

Me:   (I put down my fork.)

Husband:    It seems to me you could have just made an incision instead.

YD:  It’s kind of tough material to make an incision through.  And… safety scissors.

Husband:  Does the eyeball collapse when you cut the incision?

Me:  (I blanch.)

YD: The aqueous humor gushed out!  After we got all the aqueous humor out we were supposed to cut the eyeball in half, but once again, safety scissors didn’t work.

Me:  (I give up all hope of enjoying my dinner.)

Husband:    You need a scalpel for that!

YD: I know, right?  We were also able to dig around in the cornea and yank out the iris.

Me:  (I try to decide to stick it out, but I can’t eat.)

YD:  A really cool thing happens when you do remove the aqueous humor.  You can see the tapetum.

Husband:    Did you talk about the pigmented epithelial layer?

YD:  No, but we saw the (something anatomical).

Husband:    Did you see the optic disk?

YD: Was that the white thing hanging off the eyeball?

Me:  (I lose my appetite completely.)

Husband:    No.  (He gives a description of the optic disk.)  I was going to get some eyeballs, but I won’t have time to dissect one in class.  I have to explain the whole thing in 50 minutes.

YD:  That should take about ten minutes.

Husband:    But I have to explain how the eye works and how the information is transmitted in the brain.

(Husband proceeds to give his lecture about how the left visual field projects onto the right side of the retina.  This includes use of the words “optic chiasm.”)

Husband (in full professorial mode):  Do you know how the receptors transform the inputs into signals?  (He explains, using the words opsins and retinal. Then proceeds to talk about the pupillary light reflex, Edinger-Westphal nucleus, ciliary ganglion, acetylcholine, and muscarinic receptors.)

Husband:    … the lens gets fat when objects are close, and then adjusts to thin whenever the object being focused on is far away.

Me (finally something I can understand):  Then why can’t my eyes focus up close any more?!

Husband:  Because, when you get old the lens gets all crusty and can’t focus as easily.

Me:    I knew I should have done a better job at cleaning.

Husband:   I have to explain ALL THIS tomorrow.

YD:  (asks about other biological stuff)

Husband: (explains, using the words pyramidal motor system, extrapyramidal motor system, ATP, glucose, sphincter.  YD is appreciative.)

Husband:  Perhaps tomorrow we can talk about the vestibular system!  Isn’t biology fun?!

YD:  Yeah!

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Yes, the conversation did include that many exclamation points.  Biologists can be very enthusiastic people.

And a dear reader asked recently if I actually write my family's conversations down.  Why, yes, I do.  More on that after I get the ChristmaHannuKwanzaa gifts bought and wrapped, cookies baked, cards sent, desk cleaned, menorah located, and stockings located.