I've never been to San Antonio. Mike has been for a conference, and he ate at Titled Kilt numerous times before it dawned on him that it was one of those kinds of restaurants. Uh, huh. Sure.
I've never heard of anyone being blown away by the food at Titled Kilt, so why did we choose San Antonio? First, and most obvious is guacamole. Second is tacos. Third is enchiladas. Need I go on? My parents lived in San Antonio before I was born, and every story I've ever heard of the place involves Tex-Mex food and the Pearl Brewing Company. I'm sure that the food in San Antonio in 2016 is quite different than what it was in the early 1970s, but any place with a Tex-Mex & beer legacy is worth checking out in my book. Mexican food is the most sought-out food in San Antonio. If that's what you're hungry for as well, then San Antonio is your night. San Antonio is a food town on the rise, and we look forward to sampling just a little bit of what the city has to offer. (Unfortunately, we won't have any Pearl Beer. The brewery was absorbed by PBR, and then eventually closed in 2001.) But please wear suitable attire - we'll definitely notice if you mistake Cafe Davis for Tilted Kilt! I first traveled to New Orleans when I was about 10. I posed in front of a steamboat in a photo that has achieved notoriety in our marriage. Mike swears that in the photo I'm sporting a mullet. Those of you who know me well realize I would never be business in the front and relegate party to the back. At least not in New Orleans where it's party ALL the time. What happens in NOLA stays in NOLA, right? I really hope so 'cause my alleged mullet is just the tip of my NOLA iceberg.
I digress. We're talking about food here.... I've been to New Orleans numerous times, all spanning the years between ages 10 and 21. My food-related memories are tinged with a delicious golden aura. From chicory coffee and beignets at Cafe du Monde, to the first time I saw a crawfish with it's beady eyes staring at me out of a bowl of jambalaya (I still won't eat those creek bugs if they're intact; I won't, however, pass up jambalaya), to that time when a Popeye's biscuit at 2am was the best thing I had EVER eaten. Simply put, New Orleans has some of the best food on the planet. This post is really screaming to me that I need to go back to 'Nawlins. Until I can manage making some travel plans, however, I'll make do with Cafe Davis. What to expect - we WILL have Abita. We WILL try to find some of the best recipes the bayou has to offer. There will NOT be any beady crawfish eyes. However, there probably WILL be beads. We WILL have chicory coffee. Whether we have beignets is on you. I can hardly wait. As a Southern red clay and dirt-roads kid, I was always attracted to quaint Norman Rockwell depictions of New England. Maybe because I watched so much Murder, She Wrote in my formative childhood years, I assumed that everything from the tip of Maine to Connecticut was straight out of a bucolic storybook. Then I grew up and married a Yankee, and I came to realize that not all of New England is worth writing home about (I'm talking about you, I-95). Still, there are some good parts - picturesque barns, charming houses with lots of gables, quaint autumnal paths dappled with sunlight, and for those New Englanders who live close enough to the ocean, there's remarkable seafood.
My first (and only) trip to Boston was when I was in college, again for a debate tournament. Mike has been to Boston many more times than I have, being as he is from Connecticut and all. He used to spend every New Year's Eve there, eating steak dinners. My one foray to Boston, on the other hand, included lobster bisque, and that is the inspiration for including Boston in this year's theme dinners. Of course, Boston's food traditions reach beyond seafood. I mean, they put the "bean" in "Beantown," right? And then there's Dunkin' Donuts where locals get their coffee "regulah" (10 parts cream, 8 parts sugar, and a drop of coffee). And apparently a new culinary scene is emerging in Boston, a new-school regionalism that is pushing old favorites in new directions. The task before us, then, is to try to bring this new-school regionalism to Cafe Davis in a way that shows that Boston/The Hub/New England isn't merely touristy Legal Seafood, but rather is something much more flavorful and interesting. So what should you expect? Fruits de mer, of course! For starters, we'll probably dish up some hearty chowder, and Parker House rolls that will make you feel all cozy and warm inside. I'm not yet sure what the rest of the menu will be, but I hope that you stay tuned to find out. Heads up: Please note that while there will be no Red Sox decorations at Cafe Davis, Matt Damon WILL be accommodated as a last-minute guest. Also, I love Boston Cream Pie (just sayin'), and I appreciate any efforts to speak with a New England accent. This will be one wicked rippah! Mike and I have never been to Portland. Nor are we hipsters. Nor have we ever watched Portlandia. But Portland is in the same state as Astoria, home of the Goonies, so it has that going for it. And I do like vinyl and PBR. And I totally dig me some home decor with a bird on it. So, if it weren't for the risk of tsunamis, my guess is that Portland isn't half bad.
But why did it make our list this year? Well, because it makes everyone else's lists. I know, for instance, that Portland has an intense local food scene featuring, among other things, more than 300 kinds of truffles. You're not going to get to experience any of those truffles at Cafe Davis. Not unless we win the lottery. I also know that restaurants in Portland have the reputation of being simple, and not flashy. The restaurant scene focuses instead on the experiences that come from eating good food with friends. I really like that. I also know that Portland's culinary offerings are all over the place, from Argentinian to fine French cuisine to haute noodle houses. It's really the latter that was the big draw for Portland. I wanted a city with a reputation for great pan-Asian food - more than just what any large metro area's Chinatown could dish up - and Portland fit the ticket. A few notable examples that I'm familiar with include Bollywood Theater (Indian street food from a chef trained at Chez Panisse); Langbaan (Thai speakeasy); and Nodoguru (a Japanese pop-up in a grocery store). Sounds intriguing, right? I can't tell you what to specifically expect from your Cafe Davis night in Portland. I CAN tell you that it will likely be kinda experimental. There will probably be rice or noodles. Perhaps there will be gastronomic foam (probably not, though). You might drink from a straw that makes you look like you have a mustache. I hope that you'll wear a beanie. I hope that your beanie is bedazzled with a reindeer. And the food... whatever happens, I'm sure it will be non-ironically delicious. I'll bet a bird on it. I have only ever been to Kansas City for debate tournaments, and as a gateway for a journey across Kansas. I still think it's kinda weird that there are two cities with identical names just across the border from one another. It seems like town planners could have thrown an East or West in there, just for clarification. Perhaps they were too busy eating barbecue to be bothered with such technicalities.
I don't remember much about my forays to Kansas City. There was a nice plaza with some decent shopping. One of our debaters abruptly and loudly accused me of having "freakishly small ears" (which is true, by the way) while we were stuck in traffic. We tried to go to the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum, but it was closed. Oh, and we went out for various types of delicious smoked meat more than once, including at the esteemed Arthur Bryant's. Those are my experiences. Mike has been to Kansas City much more often than I have. Once upon a time, he went to KC for a debate business meeting that began late-morning at a breakfast buffet. The meeting lasted well into the afternoon, moving beyond breakfast into lunch. Mike has absurd buffet rules that dictate filling up on the expensive stuff first, usually meat, to make sure that he gets his money's worth. I shudder to think of how much meat he and the other meeting attendees consumed that day. Late in the afternoon, he headed to the Kansas City airport to fly home to Atlanta. He settled into his seat, and promptly fell into a deeeeeep sleep/food coma. He woke up 2+ hours later, looked out the window, and was pleased to see that he was already on the runway! Much to his chagrin, he discovered seconds later that the runway still belonged to the Kansas City airport. Whoops. So, beyond reliving moments of gluttony, er... culinary extravagance... why did Kansas City make the cut this year? First, I figured the middle of the country should have some representation, and people seem to like Kansas City more than they like Omaha (sorry Cornhuskers). Second, it has a bit of a reputation for good barbecue. I figured that was worth exploring. I have enough sense not to get into arguments about where the best BBQ hails from, but know that we'll try to re-create as authentic of a Kansas City experience as possible. Plus, there's this little tidbit that I found on the interwebs: "Believe it or not, prohibition-era Kansas City ran contrary to its straitlaced Midwestern image when a local political boss refused to enforce the nationwide ban on alcohol. The city's scofflaw reputation was cemented when a 1920s journalist remarked, 'If you want to see some sin, forget Paris and head to Kansas City.'" We look forward to seeing you in Kansas City, Heart of America! We'll provide the BBQ and the hooch - feel free to bring the (chocolate) sin. Yesterday, I watched the Tina Fey and Amy Pohler SNL video about their Dope Squad, the folks that they rely on every day to help make their lives moving in the right direction. We all know that it takes a village. It's not a coincidence that when people try to get stuff done that they form collectives and cooperatives. Simply put, we need community in our lives. The road is too hard to go it alone.
After everyone left from Cafe Davis night #12, Mike and Jeff cleared the table while I got the kiddo to sleep. Then I came downstairs to find them folding up the tables (hate to ruin the magic, but that giant table is really three folding tables), and then suddenly the room felt empty. After all of the energy of 12 days of revelry, of making new friends, of forging new connections, and of building new relationships, the room was just a room again. It simultaneously felt gratifying to be done, and a little sad that it won't happen again for another year. But the solace in waiting for 12 pages of the monthly calendar to flip by before we do this again is knowing that the folks who show up for Cafe Davis are part of our squad, our village, our collective, and our cooperative. I say that because while it means so much to us that you all show up for dinner, we also know that you all are the type of people who show up, period. We know that you show up for your friends, family, colleagues and neighbors when they need a helping hand. We know that you show up for your community when there's an opportunity to make it better. We know that when there's an opportunity to be a dreamer, do-er, collaborator, innovator, or inspirer, you show up. So thanks for being part of our squad. Hopefully we'll see you sometime before next December. But if we have to wait that long, I look forward to hearing all about the awesome things I know that you will accomplish in 2016. And thanks in advance for showing up. :) We're four days in. Café Davis is moving along at a rapid clip of do the dishes, clean, cook, set the table, relax and enjoy each others' company, repeat. Besides Saturday when I needed a power nap like no one's business, all is going well. We've fed a bunch of people, laughed a whole lot, and even had an impromptu sing-a-long to It Takes Two by Rob Base and DJ EZ Rock (you know you clicked on the link, cranked the volume, and sang along... no shame). In fact, the sing-a-long was so much fun that we segued into a dance party. Good times.
But the thing that I want to elaborate on today is a comment Mike made last night while clearing the table: "Café Davis really shows that everyone is interesting." I think that we often tend to downplay the richness of our own stories. I've written before about how people don't like to toot their own horns for fear of sounding like bragging, but no one truly enjoys a convo full of soundbites about the weather. No one walks away from soundbites feeling particularly engaged or enriched. Opening our doors a little teeny bit so that people can peek inside to who we really are, however, is the stuff of true connection. During Café Davis every night, between eating dinner and serving dessert, we go around the table and ask people to introduce themselves. There's no rule to this activity - the point is to help people put names with faces and kinda get a sense of who the other folks are sitting around the table. There are a lot of people who show up at Café Davis that I don't know (huge props to the brave!), and I also really appreciate the opportunity to hear a bit more about the guests. And the awesome part is that during this introduction period, sh*t can get magical. Introductions mean that Rob Base sing-a-longs become a possibility, and as hosts, there's nothing better that we could ask for (unless a guest brought a winning lottery ticket as a hostess gift, which really isn't that bad of an idea now that I think of it....) But back to introductions and my point in all of this rambling... it's kind of funny because when I announce that we all have to introduce ourselves, guests often wriggle in their seats and look a little uncomfortable. Then when it's their turn, they'll preface their introduction with a disclaimer about their boring life. I want to say here and now that any story you're telling yourself about your boring life is just not true. We all have the same number of hours in each day, and we choose to fill them somehow. We should all trust our choices, and feel free to share quotidian details with others. We all love to hear the details of each other's lives, primarily because we can find commonality or difference in them. Then we experience that pleasing little "ah-ha!" moment when we think, "OMG - that reminds me of something! I have a story to share! Be polite... don't interrupt! Don't interrupt!" (Fact: that internal dialog may be more subconscious for some than for others). Sharing even the tiniest morsel of ourselves is often all the fodder we need to get the conversational ball rolling. So, here's my challenge to you. The next time you're faced with a dreaded small-talk moment. Take a deep breath and think of something self-affirming. Think of the one thing that has made you happy in that day, week, or month, and tell someone else about it. You'll be starting a conversation in a positive and upbeat manner. You'll seem friendly and open. And for those of you who still have Café Davis reservations, go ahead and think of an interesting nugget to share. I'm not lying when I say that I can hardly wait to hear it! Over the next 12 days, what I write about here also will likely be posted on the Cafe Davis blog as well. For the uninitiated, Cafe Davis is probably one of the most crazy-pants things that we do as a family. It's 12 evenings of dinner parties, hosted in our home, with 12 invited guests each night. Everyone we know is invited, and sometimes even people we don't know (hello friend of a friend!). We've been doing this for 14 years, and we even used to host for THIRTY days. Thank goodness we've come to our senses. [winky emoji]
One of the most common questions we get is "Why do you do this?" My answer is usually pretty lame: "It's fun." But really, the answer is more than that. The whole shebang started as an attempt merely to get some busy friends together for dinner. Obviously it snowballed into something much bigger because, as it turns out, people like connecting with each other. And Mike and I like being the connectors. Last night, we had a group of guests who, for the most part, didn't necessarily know each other all that well. Around the table there were 20-, 30- and 40-somethings, students and professionals. As the conversation unrolled, I heard at least 4 people declare themselves to be new BFFs. People bonded over - among other things - online gaming, laser tag, life in Southern California (I would use the interstate exchange/area code lingo, but I'm not that hip), Disney World, New Kids on the Block, and competitive yearbooking (yes, that's apparently a real thing). New friends became Facebook official. There was a lot of laughter. So lemme think of a better answer for why we do this... I'll start with some observations I've gleaned from over the years. We know that it doesn't really matter what we're serving for dinner, it matters who we're eating food with. And we also know that when we make conscious efforts to invite people in, that we are transformed as well. We have the intentional goal of not only feeding guests some yummy noms, but also to invite a diverse group of people to chow down with us. After doing this for 14 years, we absolutely know that who the guests are impacts everyone's experience. We've also seen over and over again how the chance for authentic connection and good food feed the human spirit. But why TWELVE nights of dinner parties?!!? Well, because I used to have 12 cute holiday dessert plates. And also because through doing this, we've realized that the promise of hospitality comes into crystal clear focus when taken to the extreme. Yeah, it's fun to go out to dinner with friends or to make small talk with a stranger at a holiday party, but it's not remarkable. Café Davis is intentionally designed to be outside the norm. Even if the practice of going to a dinner party seems routine, the production that goes into hosting 12 of them in a row is something altogether different. It's our attempt of offering the utmost of ourselves so that everyone in attendance can feel like they have deepened their connections in our community. They are part of something experienced by at least 130-144 other people. We host Café Davis because we are made for community. The Persian poet Rumi wrote about hospitality in the 13th century: "This being human is a guest house. ... Welcome and entertain them all...meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in. Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond." We appreciate each of you who have ever joined us or who plan to be part of Café Davis this year. If you haven't made reservations yet there are still a few reservations available. We look forward to inviting you in! Jeff JonesChristy NormentPeter NormentLaura MeasellSam MeasellMiriam DicklerBrian SwardDan SchillJessica Schill (gluten free)Corrie GreenShelley DuffusChris Green Baked Artichoke Dip with Winter Crudites Spinach Salad Hamburg Steaks with Mushroom Gravy Squash Croquettes Cheddar Spoon Brea Day 3 found us with a bunch of empty seats. There were a number of cancellations, which was unfortunate, but I think those still in attendance had a nice time. I thought everything that we served was complementary, taste-wise. We had pigs in a blanket - really... who can go wrong with that? - to start, followed by stuffed lettuce (the cookbook claims it's a "gentleman's favorite"), double-Dutch mac and cheese with chard, tomatoes stuffed with sausage, and beer bread.
As I'm writing this in retrospect, the food served on Day 3 was far from my favorite, but I still had a great time. In fact, this meal is a perfect testament to what Cafe Davis is all about. We're not chefs. We're not even really foodies, although we do appreciate good food. Rather, we're people-gatherers and community-makers. Our personal philosophy is that the world would be a better place if we all took some time to talk to each other. Sharing a meal is just an easy way to facilitate that, and we are so grateful that you wonderful people are willing to take a risk and have dinner with folks who may or may not be well known to you. Mike always says that one of his favorite things about Cafe Davis is the sprinkling laughter and conversation that wafts into the busy kitchen. I concur. And now to the guests! My mom, Linda, was sitting in my office at 5:00 and decided to take one of the cancellation vacancies because she had no other dinner plans. We're glad there was space at the table for her! She was joined by another mom, Sherrie, whose daughter, Chelsea, is on the debate team. Sherrie is a physical therapist in Charlottesville, and it is always nice to connect Mike's debaters with their parents. Chelsea was also in attendance to celebrate finishing up her finals, and we're glad she wanted to kick off her winter break with us. In perhaps the most serendipitous seating arrangement of the Cafe Davis season, we also had Daniel, the Rector at Emmanuel Episcopal Church, seated next to Chris, a law enforcement/security expert. The two of them were engrossed is such interesting conversation that Jeff, our photo/gopher, practically forgot to take pictures! Kirsten, a food writer/caterer/marketer, and one of the forces behind the Rocktown Food book, was also in attendance. (Here's a little back story on how she got her invitation.... a couple of years ago, I ran an early childhood nonprofit and Kirsten donated a catered meal based on the book The Very Hungry Caterpillar. I won the meal, and she came over one Sunday evening to prepare a 16-course meal for me and 7 guests. SIXTEEN amazing and creative courses! One Cafe Davis meal is a drop in the bucket to paying back the karmic work that went into that. She is one talented lady.) And last, but certainly not least, we had Melissa, a massage therapist and mom to two of Emme's very favorite people in the whole world. Luckily all the kiddos were in attendance as well, and it was all fun and games even when they managed to abscond with a 2-pound bag of M&Ms and generously help themselves. But, in all fairness, that's what Cafe Davis is about - helping yourself to food and fun with friends. |