Dinner Guest #24 - My Parents' Neighbors

Sunday, June 10, 2012

While traveling, it's always a challenge to maintain my Sunday dinner tradition.  Not wanting to impose a large group of eaters on my parents, I asked my Mother to secure a guest.  She extended a few invitations, but ultimately gave up after several declines.  Slightly disappointed, but still determined to complete a year of Sunday dinners, I shopped and cooked regardless.  I figured my parents could serve as my guests yet again (see Guest #1) without completely shattering the blog experiment.

I love to cook in my mother's kitchen.  It has beautiful custom cabinetry, green and black-flecked granite counter tops, and a gorgeous Viking range.  Best of all, my mother has every kitchen gadget, copper pot, and serving dish you'll ever need.  I made a mental note to no longer give her cooking items as gifts.  She is out of room.

I cooked my way through Sunday morning into Sunday afternoon.  Chili simmered in the crock pot and corn bread baked in the oven.  Excited by the smells, my mother impulsively called her neighbors and asked them to dinner.  Surprisingly, they answered, "Yes."

In my parents' housing development, "neighbor" is a very loose term.  These are not people you casually run into as you set the trash out on Monday mornings.  In their deep green, wooded, mountain community, homes are spaced far apart and neighborly sightings are rare.  I have never met Mr. and Mrs. Neighbor and was suddenly nervous about feeding complete strangers.  I had no idea if they were vegetarians, lactose-intolerant, allergic to nuts, or diabetic.  My mom casually said,

"Don't worry.  She eats really healthy.  She may even bring her own food."

That didn't help.

The meal consisted of red and white chicken chili, cheddar-scallion corn bread, quinoa-almond celery salad, fresh cherries, watermelon, and chocolate cream pie for dessert.  Mrs. Neighbor seemed especially interested in the cornbread, inquiring about its ingredients and cooking method.  I quickly learned that Mrs. Neighbor's signature dish is home made corn bread.  If I had known previously, I would have made a different kind of bread to accompany the chili.  No smart cook invites Colonel Sanders to dinner and makes fried chicken.  Lucky for me, Mrs. Neighbor was very gracious and in polite phrases, declined the cornbread due to her allergy to dairy.

Mr. and Mrs. Neighbor were very kind, socially polished people.  It seems I am usually in the role of asking questions, carrying a conversation, and taking interest in our guests' lives, but the Neighbors caught me by surprise, asking me questions.  I knew the food was okay when Mr. Neighbor took second and third helpings of my dishes.  My Mom even asked me for my chocolate cream pie recipe.

After the meal and conversation were through, Mr. and Mrs. Neighbor drove away with a few playful honks in an electric hunting buggy.  My Mom said sadly,

"We probably won't seem them for another six months."

I suppose that's the price you pay for living in a forest of aspen and pine at 8,000 feet above sea level.  Back home, I know when my neighbors have company over because the cars are parked in front of my house.  I know when their gardener is mowing because I hear the loud drone every Wednesday afternoon.  I know when my neighbors are out of town because newspapers pile up on their driveway.  Yet, I wouldn't change where I live.  I enjoy having neighbors so close.

I don't have the opportunity to visit my parents' home very often.  It is a seven hour drive and I hate road trips.  So this particular Sunday, I'm glad I was there to experience the bi-annual meeting with the Neighbors.