The other day, we were having dinner with some amazingly wonderful friends, and our conversation veered onto the topic of wedding presents. J and A, two of the most honest and real people I have ever met, were married recently (and are expecting a wee boy in March). We all talked about the kinds of gifts that couples tend to receive when they marry later in life as opposed to those received when you are married quite young. We laughed at the foolish, oohed over the beautiful, and reminisced on our own wedding days. And I started to regret, as we drove home that night, that we took the common path when J and A were married. After all, we're in our late thirties now. Everyone gives money, right? But how will they ever remember what they mean to us?
M and I married quite young. We shared our own gift horror stories. Two barely-employed graduate students had little use for four sterling silver coffee sets (quite possibly stolen from the set of Downton Abbey, had that show been even conceived of in 1999.) However, it got me thinking about some of the more memorable gifts that could only have been given to the young...by the young.
Our friends were quite young, too. The ink had barely dried on our bachelor's diplomas, and we were still trying to figure out what an adult does with a papasan chair. Our friends didn't arrive at our reception with padded envelopes or boxes of crystal. They arrived with tokens of friendship. Their meager budgets forced them to consider the couple, not the cost. Rather than open their checkbooks, they opened their memory books.
One of our groomsmen, a friend of M's from childhood, had only met me once or twice before the wedding. He, too, was getting married within the year, and we had a little time to talk about planning the big event. At one point, his fiancee asked about our lives and our hobbies, and I mentioned that I loved to cook. I didn't have expensive pots and pans or an elaborate kitchen. But I loved food, and I knew what to do with it. When we finally got to opening our gifts after we returned from our honeymoon (on Cape Cod - we needed to find a place we could drive to, for plane fare was out of our price range, for sure), I saw a small, square, flexible package wrapped simply. The Newlywed Cookbook.
I'm sure by today's standards, that cookbook alone would not even suffice as a shower gift. But this I know. I cannot tell you who wrote a check. I do not remember who delivered those silver trays. But every time I open that cookbook, so battered and stained from almost fifteen years of use, I think of D and H, and I smile.
You need:
for the crust:
1 1/2 c. flour
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 c. butter, chilled and cut into pieces
3-4 tbsp. cold water
for the filling:
2 tsp. olive oil
4 shallots, thinly sliced
2 tbsp. sugar
1 10-oz. pkg. frozen chopped spinach, thawed and squeezed dry
1 c. ricotta cheese
3/4 c. Swiss cheese, grated
1/4 c. mlk
2 eggs, lightly beaten
1 tbsp. Dijon mustard
1 tsp. dried oregano
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. pepper
1 tbsp. Parmesan cheese
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. Make the crust. In a food processor fitted with the metal blade, combine the flour, salt and butter and process until the mixture resembles course meal. Add the cold water, one tbsp. at a time, and process until the dough comes together. Transfer to a lightly floured surface and roll into a 12-in. circle. and press into a 9-in. pie plate. To make the filling, heat the oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the shallots and sugar and saute for ten minutes or until shallots are caramelized and golden brown. Transfer to a bowl and add all remaining ingredients except the Parmesan cheese. Mix well and spoon into the crust. Top with the Parmesan cheese. Bake 35-40 minutes until a knife inserted into the center comes out clean. Let stand 10 minutes before slicing.
From The Newlywed Cookbook by Robin Vitetta-Miller (1999)
No comments:
Post a Comment