The first New Years's Eve explosions made their presence known in the early evening at the Cool Water Ranch. It didn't sound like an electrical pop. . . more along the lines of a lightning shot. They heralded the sound of the first batch of fireworks, which are highly distinctive when they go off.
We were delighted to have ML with us for the evening. She had already celebrated with a weekend of fun and gave MA a special gift: a ride to the airport at 4am. Mary Ann, Mary Leigh, and I gathered together in the kitchen at Cool Water Ranch, and set about cooking dinner. It was simple fare, made at home. But that's what MA--who seemed really intent on cooking this night as a family--requested. She prefers simple comfort food to just about anything else. Picking up on a theme I first suggested for Christmas dinner--beef--this went from short ribs, which I hate, to hamburger steak, which I hate even more. What came was a dish that would have been better with short ribs, beef braised with onions, carrots, celery, peppers, and mushrooms.
I joined the girls in the kitchen and asked whether I could cook something with them. There was a lot of fun and warmth in the kitchen that night. Home cooking is something we're always talking about and seldom practicing. I jumped on Mary Ann’s suggestion that I make the mashed potatoes. I could see her hesitation when I made a few suggestions, but I reminded her that I had my own cookbook beside me, I know what's in there and that I like it.
I opened an inexpensive bottle of white bubbly with the toughest cage at the top of the bottle. It came from Washington State and was fresh and we all liked it just fine. The bottle looked French, but that was a dodge. It was actually an extremely "inexpensive" bottle, which is probably why it was still buried in there, and I don't even remember how I got it. Not surprisingly, no one got even tipsy, but the taste was good enough that MA had three glasses all by herself. We killed it. Something most unusual with my girls. it was the perfect accompaniment to a home-cooked meal of pedestrian food. This evening was not about food, but togetherness.
Mary Ann also cooked broccoli, and ML cooked red sauce for another day. We also had some cheese and puff pastry pinwheels MA made to use the remainder of the puff pastry dough she bought for these holidays. By the time we reached this point, we were deep in our conversations. Business planning. The New Orleans Menu--my self-broadcast and publishing house since 1977--is regauging itself. It's a good thing the digital world has taken over from the manual, which really was a manual back then. Soon enough my publishing and broadcasting efforts were making it in the world on its own. Somehow, I succeeded. And here I am. And now I am relaxing a little and leaving it to the next generation. I wonder who will ultimately be part of it and how it will all play out. This I know: it's not going to be easily accomplished.
But the conversation that night was not one of trepidation. It was pure optimism. This evening was set against a backdrop of a quieter night on the north shore, where there is usually so much in the way of fireworks that a smoky haze exists the next morning. Even that was a change from a decade ago. Everyone grew up. Time moves on. This New Year's Eve was everything MA had hoped for the family, enjoying each other while cooking in the kitchen. Just like it was a decade ago.
