Reading may seem like a solitary pleasure, but we do not believe it is so. As we read, we intimately interact with writers, the worlds they create, and our own inner selves as well as the real world that surrounds us. Some of us are also blessed enough to have friends to share the experience with.

While discussing the idyllic village of Three Pines and the captivating characters author Louise Penny created in the Inspector Gamache books, we were aware of the sensory pleasure to be had in the meals described. Olivier’s Bistro, Gabri’s baking, and dinners at the Morrow’s can easily make us salivate while reading the books… Louise Penny's books, are a wonderful entrée into a sensual world, where each book is a season, capturing its mood and flavours, and contributing to the layers of meaning about the characters, who are marvellously revealed over the series.

At one point, a daydream of going through the series with a notebook in hand, writing down all these meals and later cooking them, took shape. This is our "notebook". We hope you enjoy this literary-culinary-sensory-philosophical journey.

Friday, July 1, 2016

Cheese, Bread, Wine & The Best Kind of Friends

by Amy


 “Gamache carried the evening tray of baguette, cheeses and pâté into the living room, placing it on the table before the fire while Émile brought in their wine.”“Santé.”“The two men sat facing the fireplace and toasted. When they each had something to eat they discussed their days.”

I love this image. Little nibbles. No formality. A drink. Familiarity with a friend’s home.

I had a friend over the other day. She came for lunch and I was making some pasta for our sons and preparing our slightly more grownup meal. I mentioned that I’d love for her to teach me a tomato sauce recipe she makes. So she joined me in the kitchen. We chatted, cooked, and occasionally bumped into each other in my kitchen. There is an intimacy implied in a friendship that easily shares a kitchen. It’s a special kind of familiarity.

Gamache and Émile have that.

I have a few friends like that. They’re precious.

It’s wonderful to have company while you cook, to nibble and maybe share some wine as you finish making a meal… It’s lovely to have friends you can talk about your day to.

“Émile Comeau nodded. It was a relief to see his friend so interested. When Armand and Reine-Marie had arrived a week before it took Émile a day to adjust to the changes in Gamache. And not just the beard, and the scars, but he seemed weighed down, leaden and laden by the recent past. Now, Gamache was still thinking of the past, but at least it was someone else’s, not his own.”

This is an insightful passage. It shows us how much Émile understands and cares for Gamache. When you care for someone, their successes and well-being brings you happiness. Émile is relieved because he was worried for Gamache. He knows that while far from well, the Chief is healing. He even seems to understand the therapeutic function of digging around in and analyzing someone else’s past.

There are friends (barely deserving of the title) who are only around when all is well. Then there are those who are truer friends and who stick by you when you’re going through a rough patch. The best of friends go beyond that. They are those who keep you company at the worst of times, but cheer you on and are excited for you when you overcome.

Those friends are priceless. They are the Myrnas who not only “whisper in the darkness”, but open the bottle of champagne to toast your achievements.   

“Who hurt you, once/ so far beyond repair/ that you would meet each overture/ with curling lip?/ While we, who knew you well,/ your friends, (the focus of your scorn)/ could see your courage in the face of fear,/ your wit, and thoughtfulness,/ and will remember you/ with something close to love.”

Oftentimes true friends are the most deserving of our time and affection, but they aren’t always appreciated. This series has a number of steadfast friends who see courage in the face of fear… Myrna, Reine-Marie, Annie, the Brunels, Lacoste…

“Finally Gamache looked at Émile. “ 
Gabri asks a good question.” 
“Are they partners?”Gamache nodded.“Well, he just doesn’t want to believe Olivier did it. That’s all.” 
“That’s true, he doesn’t. But the question is still good. If Olivier murdered the Hermit in a remote cabin, why move the body to a place it would be found?”

These friends are frequently those we’re close enough to that they’ve seen more than one version of us. They’ve seen our public face, but they’ve also seen us vulnerable and teary eyed. Sometimes they’ve seen us sobbing and broken. They’ve seen us gleeful and ecstatic. They know our dreams. Some they guess at because they’re too close to the heart to be spoken out loud (the kind we’re afraid to admit lest they never come true). These friends are the ones who hold our hands when we feel like we’re at the bottom.

“Why did Olivier move the body, Armand?”

But while these incredibly precious friends are the ones we know will keep us company when we’re at the bottom, they’re also the ones who don’t leave us there. They let us mourn, grieve, and wallow. For a while. Then they help us face the hard questions. They help us face the monsters. They comfort us with the security that we have someone to lean on, but they believe in us. Because they do, we are strong enough to believe in ourselves.

"Gamache steeled himself against the thrashing explosions, the bursts of light, the people crowding all around, shoving and shrieking.Across the abandoned factory he saw Jean-Guy Beauvoir fall, hit. He saw the gunman above them, shooting, in a place that was supposed to be almost undefended.He’d made a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake.”

Friends like these are rare for many reasons. Not the least of which is the fact that while sharing a kitchen is a symbol of a kind of familiarity and intimacy in friendship, sharing our fears and inadequacies and mistakes is a far deeper one.

I wish you all the kind of friend who opens drawers in your kitchen, listens to your dreams and your fears, and stands by you. I hope you have someone who will be genuinely happy for you when you succeed and will be equally willing to give you a shoulder to cry on. I pray that there’s at least one person in your life who “whispers in the darkness” and believes in you even when you don’t fully believe in yourself.

Both the friend who first made me this cheese recipe and the friends who shared the first batch I made myself are blessings. If there are such people in your life, make sure to get together. Maybe for coffee. Or tea. Or wine. Maybe make some marinated cheese that you can nibble on while you talk about your day and your dreams.

Marinated Cheese

I didn’t make the wine.

I did try out Libby’s baked ricotta – which was lovely. The recipe is in this post, in case any of you missed it: Libby's Baked Ricota 

I’ve eaten the marinated cheese chunks in salads, plain, with toast, with rolls… I could go on. I had a few bits leftover… I hadn’t really planned on this for the blog, but as I sat down with a roll, the few leftover chunks of marinated cheese and some of the ricotta, I realized I’d inadvertently put together (parts of) one of the blog meals. So while it isn’t a great picture, the marinated cheese is a great recipe!

Ingredients:

Cheese - The original recipe she gave me called for cheddar cheese, but I didn’t really follow the recipe, just the idea of it. I cut chunks of parmesan, ricotta, and a local cheese (about the consistency of cheddar, but tastes more like a salty ricotta?). About 16 ounces of cheese either sliced or in squares (which is what I did).
1 teaspoon of sugar
¾ teaspoon dried basil
1 dash salt
1 dash black pepper
½ cup olive oil
½ cup white wine vinegar
1 jar diced pimentos drained (I didn’t have any and didn’t add them)
3 Tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
3 Tablespoons minced green onions
3 pressed garlic cloves
Pour the marinade over the cheese, cover and refrigerate overnight.

Original recipe here:Marinated Cheese 


5 comments:

  1. A true friend is a blessing from God. We have friends from the different phases of our lives.

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    1. I agree.
      Due to moving a bit at a young age, I've also learned that friends don't necessarily have to be lifelong. We take (and give) what we can when we can and there are always new friends to make. We also don't lose old friends - even when we lose touch for awhile.

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  2. Yum - that marinated cheese sounds wonderful! Bread and cheese with a little wine - what could be better? Omar Khayyam knew his stuff! I remember when I was first married, we'd often get some lovely fresh Kaiser rolls and Gouda cheese - they were wonderful for a pre-dinner "unwinding of the day". Never seem to find the same great fresh rolls or aged Gouda anymore.... maybe it had something to do with being young and in love, after all, hahaha.

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    1. Haha!
      I think our taste buds change. Some things are never the same. Others don't exactly TASTE good, but they bring back nostalgic feelings which make them taste like heaven. :)
      The cheese is good.

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  3. Amy, I've missed a lot of posts lately, catching up today! I've loved sharing in Émile's and Gamache's friendship. Those long-lasting close friendships are treasures. MMMM, the marinated cheese recipe! Another one to add to my list!

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