We gathered in Seattle for lunch with friends. That normally wouldn’t be noteworthy, but this one was special. The full manuscript of the cookbook is due on Monday. We move in 6 days. We should have stayed hunkered down, me in front of the computer, Danny and Lucy packing books.
But this was Kristin, the fierce jazz musician friend I met at the fine arts camp in Alaska back in 2002. The Kristin who played her bass at our wedding, singing Night and Day, but changing the lyrics to “I want to spend my life making gluten-free food for you!” The Kristin who wandered through the desert of a bad relationship for years. She was in town yesterday, to play some gigs around the area, and to introduce her husband to the people she loves.
Of course we went to lunch. They live in Copenhagen. We couldn’t resist this.
We went to Cuoco, one of Tom Douglas‘ restaurants. I’d never been, and it’s a pasta restaurant, primarily. But I’ve always been treated well at Douglas restaurants and never given any gluten by mistake. I saw prosciutto and mozzarella, a steak salad, and gelato on the menu. I’d find something to eat.
When I explained precisely the situation to the server, he said, “Oh, would you like the gluten-free macaroni? We can make any of the pasta dishes with it instead.”
A tumble of sautéed escarole, pancetta, chilis, and hazelnuts on soft, pliable pasta. Sunlight. Lucy giggling with Kristin. A kind man holding my friend’s hand. A kind man holding mine.
That really was a lovely lunch.