We drove Flora up to school yesterday and drove back home this morning without her. It was the same drive I’d wept through last September, but this time my eyes were dry — at least until we reached the New York State Thruway and John brought up the week’s menu. We’d planned burgers for this evening’s dinner, grilled chicken breasts for the night after, and a salad using the leftover chicken for the night after that. “Let’s have pasta tonight,” he said. “I just don’t feel like grilling.” That was fine by me, and would’ve been fine with Flora as well. We joke that those of us in the family with Italian blood could happily eat pasta seven nights a week. And that’s what got me to the Sad Math: After a summer of cooking for three, I was now back to cooking for two.
Cooking for two is, in many ways, very similar to cooking for three. If you’re roasting a chicken, you still roast a chicken. If you’re making soup, you still make a big pot and save what’s left over for another night. I haven’t altered my rotating menu much: We still have pasta at least once a week (twice if I can sneak it past John), eat too much grilled or sauteed chicken, and try to go vegan or vegetarian as much as is reasonable when one of us is the son of a butcher (not naming names here). But when Flora was home — unless she was out with friends — dinner was the one time I knew I could do something with, and for, her. When she asked, “What are we having?” I could make her smile by answering “chicken breasts with capers and tomatoes” or “pasta puttanesca” or, simply, “steak.” Flora loves food, loves to eat, thrills at a new recipe, and cooking for her must be similar to what Renee Fleming feels like when she sings at the Met. In the realm of eating, Flora is the world’s most appreciative audience.
So suddenly, we were crossing the Tappan Zee Bridge with the Hudson spread out and sparkling all around us, and I was crying again. All those meals for two rolled out before me in my mind, hundreds of them laid down on a pair of cotton placemats, night after night, as my daughter found sustenance, alone or with friends, in RISD’s dining halls, until next May when I could start cooking for three again.
As we pulled into the driveway on a day that felt more like early August than mid September, I found myself thinking about Thanksgiving.
Your menus make me wish you had to set a 4th place at the table! I hope you had a fun summer with Flora. You must be very proud of her, going into her 2nd year at RISD. Don’t worry, Thanksgiving is just around the corner and Flora will be back to take her place at the table. I’m so happy you had a bright, talented, lovely child. You deserved it. Keep the blog going. I’ve missed it. Two weeks from today, we leave for Greece. Of course I’m nervous as a cat! But I can’t wait. I’ve always wanted to go there and we’re going 1st class all the way. After this horrid summer, we feel we deserve this! XXC
I’ll set a fourth place at the table if you make room for a third on the trip to Greece.