It’s been since July 2003 that I’ve had a kitchen table of my own. The old apartment had a breakfast bar and two stools – so I ate staring at my kitchen sink. In the new apartment, meals with my family have been taken around an island table with stools, one that my sister Anne gave me when the apartment was still under construction. It’s been taking a while, this getting-settled thing, and yesterday my friend Joanne gave me five Windsor-backed chairs to put around a table I bought last year at a divorce sale. It’s been waiting to be set up, and yesterday was the day.
Unlike a garage sale, a divorce sale is kind of sad, each item leaving the owners’ home with a bit of baggage. I remember that well – we sold most of what we owned back in the mid-90s with a sigh and a what-if and “I can’t wait to get rid of everything that reminds me of this hard time” perspective. But the table is beautiful, if not a bit tired, and ready for another shot at life. It’s solid, with sturdy, turned legs and a real butcher block top and a silverware drawer. We had to scrub pretty hard to remove the evidence of a few bumpy years. A little girl’s name, Hannah, was autographed in pencil all over the underside. Someone had stashed a piece of now rock-hard bubble gum underneath. But when it was all cleaned up and sitting in my new kitchen on a new braided rug, a little life was breathed into the room. Thoughts of future meals there filled me with optimism. We decided to hang the pretty light fixture above it, and I put up some curtains. It’s all beginning to take shape.
Last night, we had our first meal at the new table. "We" were Katie and Bill, little Henry (who now walks, in a Charlie Chaplin kind of way), Bill’s dad Richard and Granny Syd, and me, and my son Joe was there too. I set the table with my nice dishes and pretty wine glasses. Katie had roasted a beautiful chicken and served rice pilaf and steamed carrots, and for dessert we had some vanilla ice cream with blueberry sauce I’d made. Henry, in his high chair, was sitting at the corner near his grandfather, his seat elevated a bit above the rest. I said he was lording over the table, and he gave us all a huge grin.
It was different, last night, having a real Sunday dinner at my own kitchen table. It was something I’d never fully appreciated before, until I didn’t have a table. It felt great and now I can see future Sunday dinners and and other times with friends and family around this new table, and the thought of that makes me happy.
Blueberry Sauce
2 cups frozen blueberries, divided
¾ c. sugar
1.5 cups water
3 tbsp. cornstarch
Mix sugar and cornstarch together well in saucepan. Add water and stir well. Add half the berries, reserving the other half until later. Bring to a boil and simmer until it’s all thickened. Mash the mixture with a potato masher. When thick like pudding, remove from heat and stir in remaining blueberries. Cool until mixture is still warm.
Serve over vanilla ice cream.
(If you have any left over, refrigerate it and when you want it again, warm it up and stir till smooth).
Unlike a garage sale, a divorce sale is kind of sad, each item leaving the owners’ home with a bit of baggage. I remember that well – we sold most of what we owned back in the mid-90s with a sigh and a what-if and “I can’t wait to get rid of everything that reminds me of this hard time” perspective. But the table is beautiful, if not a bit tired, and ready for another shot at life. It’s solid, with sturdy, turned legs and a real butcher block top and a silverware drawer. We had to scrub pretty hard to remove the evidence of a few bumpy years. A little girl’s name, Hannah, was autographed in pencil all over the underside. Someone had stashed a piece of now rock-hard bubble gum underneath. But when it was all cleaned up and sitting in my new kitchen on a new braided rug, a little life was breathed into the room. Thoughts of future meals there filled me with optimism. We decided to hang the pretty light fixture above it, and I put up some curtains. It’s all beginning to take shape.
Last night, we had our first meal at the new table. "We" were Katie and Bill, little Henry (who now walks, in a Charlie Chaplin kind of way), Bill’s dad Richard and Granny Syd, and me, and my son Joe was there too. I set the table with my nice dishes and pretty wine glasses. Katie had roasted a beautiful chicken and served rice pilaf and steamed carrots, and for dessert we had some vanilla ice cream with blueberry sauce I’d made. Henry, in his high chair, was sitting at the corner near his grandfather, his seat elevated a bit above the rest. I said he was lording over the table, and he gave us all a huge grin.
It was different, last night, having a real Sunday dinner at my own kitchen table. It was something I’d never fully appreciated before, until I didn’t have a table. It felt great and now I can see future Sunday dinners and and other times with friends and family around this new table, and the thought of that makes me happy.
Blueberry Sauce
2 cups frozen blueberries, divided
¾ c. sugar
1.5 cups water
3 tbsp. cornstarch
Mix sugar and cornstarch together well in saucepan. Add water and stir well. Add half the berries, reserving the other half until later. Bring to a boil and simmer until it’s all thickened. Mash the mixture with a potato masher. When thick like pudding, remove from heat and stir in remaining blueberries. Cool until mixture is still warm.
Serve over vanilla ice cream.
(If you have any left over, refrigerate it and when you want it again, warm it up and stir till smooth).
Photo Credit: http://www.henri-matisse.net/paintings/ax.jpg
Welcome home travel buddy! Sounds like your first dinner at your new table was perfect. Let the memories begin...
ReplyDeleteSounds deliciously amazing. I am going to make some sauce this weekend!
ReplyDeleteDebbie, I read your post and am so glad you like this recipe! Thanks!
ReplyDelete