The Times - Serving Waitsburg, Dayton and the Touchet Valley

As it stands now, my ex-husband, Daniel, the chef, will be moving to Waitsburg this spring. After spending Thanksgiving with him; well, to quote Yogi Berra, “it’s déjà vu all over again.” It’s been 10 years since we’ve lived together, and I forgot what it’s like to live with someone whose life is food. Admittedly, I love being the beneficiary of great meals, but sometimes, the quest for perfection, and the persnickety preparation is more entertaining than the outcome.

Some things have changed with him; his stomach can no longer tolerate coffee, so he has converted to green tea. Evidently, there is more of a science (or art) to making tea than I ever realized. This is how a chef makes tea: since I don’t own a microscale, he had to eyeball the amount of leaves for his brew, and to add insult to injury, my electric tea kettle does not have a thermostat, it just boils water, so he had to take an educated guess that the water was 75 degrees, next, brew for precisely 4 minutes. Eventually, you do get to drink the tea—BUT, save the leaves. Good tea leaves can be used for up to 5 cups of tea. I guess he’ll pack his microscale and thermostatically controlled tea kettle when he visits at Christmas.

Me, I just boil water, pour over a Lipton tea bag in the cup, wait a few seconds, add fake sugar and drink.

On Thanksgiving weekend we took a drive to Valdemar Winery, where we dined on a tasty Portuguese inspired stew. After two bites, he decided that this is what we’ll bring to the cocktail party we had been invited to that evening. I commented that most people brought snack type foods, like crackers & cheese, pizza, mini quiches, but no, he was insistent, it was going to be the stew. With a quick stop at Albertson’s to pick up some ingredients, his work began. He is meticulous about his mis en place, (everything in its place), resulting in a million cups, bowls and pots all lined up. He has the same philosophy as my mother; it isn’t a successful meal unless a minimum of 80% of all the pots, pans and utensils in the kitchen are used. (Guess who does the dishes? Yep: not him.)

Sunday morning, after his tea ritual, after relaxing with the newspaper, and doing some repairs in the house, we decided it was time to eat a late lunch/early dinner. I stuck my head in the refrigerator to assess the options and shout out some suggestions using the food we had in the house; left over homemade pizza that he had made Friday night, ham sandwiches, eggs, pasta, cheese and crackers, none of which inspired him.

We took a walk to Waitsburg Grocery, bought a variety of vegetables, fruit cocktail (to make a chutney), some herbs, and jalapeño pepper for a little kick. The menu was steamed and sautéed vegetables, topped with salad on pita bread, with tahini sauce, zoog (middle eastern herb pesto) and wine, for sure. When I mentioned that we don’t have nor did we buy the pita, he shot me a look, “what are you thinking?” We make the pita, fresh!

On my own, I would’ve opened a container of yogurt, maybe added a little trail mix, grabbed a diet coke and called it lunch. It may not be as good as the feast he prepared, but all I had to wash was one spoon.

Déjà vu, but, as I’ve learned, relationships depend on compromise. I will be eating well, again, so more gym time and oh, those dishpan hands!