Supper

Last night Mark, Ken and I gathered around our small dinner table in Astoria, Queens to partake of a meal of pan sauteed chicken breast cooked in olive oil, butter, with lemon juice, and topped with capers, minced garlic, pepper, and some American cheese. In addition we had steamed broccoli and carrots coated with butter and some hefty home mashed potatoes made with light cream. This meal would have sounded like something my mom would have cooked years ago but not in a million years would I have thought that I'd be cooking this meal. It's funny how one begins to incorporate new elements into their life. When I was working at the hedge fund, I had no opportunity to be creative and surprisingly began to look to the culinary arts as a way to infuse creative activies into my daily routine. I found that beyond the simple pleasure of prepping and and cooking, which in itself filled our apartment with the aromas of home, it became a positive force in helping to bring the three of us together. As we sit around the small table drinking beer and listening to loud music, we actually get a chance to talk, a chance that I'm not sure we would have had if the enticement of food was not present. Ever since then, I've realized the joy that can be had at a fine restaurant or a small local diner, when friends gather to recount their trials and tribulatios from the day an bask in the warmth of friendship. It might sound overly sentimental but nonetheless it is these simple pleasures that give life meaning.