“Doll, Billy killed a deer. Be a lamb and come over for venison.”
When you get an invite for dinner, you go. As I get older, I appreciate more and more when I am the recipient of a home-cooked meal. Partly, it’s because I have limited culinary skills. Eating at home for me can be a satisfactory bowl of soup or cereal. I like entertaining friends but my favorite meals to provide are more appetizer-esque. I love doing salads and finger foods. I do admire the skill involved in pulling off a dinner party where courses are timed for maximum enjoyment.
So, when Scooby, a notable vegetarian, requested my presence for a meat focused supper, I was all in. Bill, aka the Honey Badger, provided deer, three way. He served small bits of heart and round medallion tenderloins for appetizers. His centerpiece was a roast stewed in juices with carrots. It was impressive. Although I’ve eaten fish someone caught and scaled, I don’t remember ever being a guest of the hunter/chef. The Honey Badger killed the deer on his property in Michigan. He then skinned and gutted and cooked it. The meat was surprisingly tender. My favorite was the tenderloin for its kickier taste. The roast actually tasted like it could have been any roast. I would have had trouble identifying it as deer in a taste off with a beef or pork roast.
We watched video footage of the deer outside his home. He promised Scooby that ‘dinner‘ wasn’t any of the does that she had named. Scooby made the vegetarian accompaniments for the Sunday gathering: salad, brussel sprouts and mushroom barley. It was all hearty and delicious. El provided a homemade lemon bundt cake. It was the perfect spring compliment to the cozy winter spread. I stole a piece for coffee this morning. Coffee and cake for breakfast – two days in a row– I’m living the dream.
I am awe of people’s culinary skills but also their thoughtfulness in sharing it. The bigger reason I like going to someone’s house for dinner is the intimate kinship of it. As I get older, I prefer eating in someone’s house rather than a restaurant. Dinner conversations are less strained. Restaurants have all the prattle of service and strangers. It’s hard to have meaningful discussions over that noise. I love gathering in my friends’ homes where they open their world to me. I enjoy basking in friendship a la mode.
I found this ‘published’ poem I wrote about friendship when I was ten. It still applies.