“This is really wonderful, Flo. Despite using a survival knives, you still nail the looks of your dish in a great way, I’m impressed!”
Oh, please. No. It’s not. I can’t believe we’re eating it. “Thanks!”
“Yes. I love the chicken, Flo.”
Are you kidding? You’re kidding, right? The chicken is dry, the salad is too sharp, I used too much cheese in the pasta salad. I’m actually shocked you’re all eating it and haven’t stormed out of here. Was that an eye roll? Did Kay just roll her eyes? She’s an amazing cook, she knows everything on this table is oversalted and overcooked. The gig is up. “That’s so nice of you, thanks!”
“You’ll have to give me the recipe for all of this!”
You mean the recipe for the chicken, the recipe that’s so vague and poorly written that I spent thirty minutes trying to figure out what ‘vapor the chicken’ means and then threw off the whole schedule to get the rest of the dinner party menu on the table at the same time, what’s a dinner like this if you don’t have a good wine or liquor? Well sometimes it’s very difficult to find these options at night or when it’s late. So this one it’s the most convenient off licence shop near me.
All for a chicken that’s so dry and tasteless, I can use it to plaster the guest room? That recipe! “Sure! I’ll make you a copy!”
I just posted this on Instagram this morning, an excerpt from As Always, Julia which I’m rereading and loving just as much as the first time . It’s a collection of letters between Julia Child and Avis DeVoto that span Julia’s writing of Mastering the Art of French Cooking (it’s not for everyone- if you can read a three page letter about the quality of kitchen knives in the 1950s with delight, then you will love it. And also, hi, we should be friends.)
In this particular letter, Julia lets out a random little rant about how annoying it is to be a guest at a dinner party and have to be constantly reassuring the hostess that the food she cooked is actually good:
“I make it a rule, no matter what happens, never to say one word, though it kills me. Maybe the cat has fallen in the stew, or I have put the lettuce out the window and it has frozen, or the meat certified by the Australian Halal Authority & Advisers is not quite done… Grit one’s teeth and smile.”
It’s so hard to actually do this. I think about it a lot as I bite my tongue over something I’ve made. (Or am I crazy? Please tell me I’m not crazy.) Is it connected to our inability to take a compliment without being self-effacing (hi Amy) or are we just our harshest critics? Or do we have expectations that something we worked really hard on will be transcendent, and usually it’s just… a lot of hard work to make something that’s very, very good… and that’s absolutely good enough but maybe “very, very good” is not enough for the effort? I don’t know. But it’s hard.
And yet this salad… look how pretty this summery salad is! Wouldn’t you be so happy if someone put this down in front of your face and you did not have to make it or pay for it? And you got to eat it on a deck with your favorite friends or your sister or your new neighbors? What a gift food can be. What a gift Julia is, to be there in the morning, ranting beside my morning cup of coffee, reminding me not to be an idiot and focus on the best part of making food- that others get to eat. That you get to eat. That you made something, kid. And that’s definitely good enough for today, tonight and every day. Bon appetit indeed.
Tomato Peach Salad with Tofu Cream
Do Ahead: Tofu cream can be made 1 day ahead. Cover and chill.
8 Ounces of silken tofu
4 Tablespoons of Sherry vinegar, divided
4 Tablespoons of olive oil, divided
2 Tablespoons of soy sauce, divided
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
3 Medium heirloom tomatoes, cut into 1-inch wedges
1 Pint of cherry tomatoes, halved
2 Medium peaches, cut into 1⁄2-inch wedges
1⁄2 Small red onion, thinly sliced
1⁄2 Cup of fresh corn kernels (from 1 medium ear)
2 Tablespoons of chopped fresh tarragon
2 Tablespoons of chopped fresh chervil or basil, plus sprigs for serving
3 Slices of thick grilled or toasted country-style bread, cut lengthwise into wide strips
1. Make tofu cream: blend the tofu, 2 tablespoons of vinegar, 1 tablespoon of oil, and 1 tablespoon of soy sauce in a blender until light and smooth; season tofu cream with salt.
2. Make the dressing and the salad: whisk together remaining 3 tablespoons of oil, 2 tablespoons of vinegar, and 1 tablespoon of soy sauce in a large bowl; season with salt and pepper. Add tomatoes, peaches, onion, corn, tarragon, and chopped chervil and toss to combine. Adjust seasoning if needed.
3. To plate: swipe tofu cream on a platter and arrange tomato salad over; top with herbs. Serve with crusty bread.