Dinner at Cynne and Jack’s house

Okay, lets get one thing straight.  If you ever, EVER, get lucky enough to be invited to Cynne and Jack’s house for dinner...GO!  This was no big pot of stew Cynne made. (Which if it had been, you can bet your guzungas that it would have been the best pot of stew your mouth had the good fortune to meet.) The woman is a gourmet cook of the highest order and Jack, her sous chef is no slouch!  I walk in and there are these beautifully laid out tiny pancakes with tasty Peeking duck morsels, elegantly laid out.  Each one has just the right amount of duck, plum sauce (which was way better than any plum sauce I’ve ever had in a restaurant) and every single one had a bit of crispy skin for texture.  DELICIOUS!  Apparently Jack was responsible for the pancakes that were soft and tender with crispy edges and you could taste the hint of butter that he had used in the pan.  A glass of red wine slipped into my hand.  I tried not to make an absolute pig of myself and failed miserably.  Then Jack walks in with barbecued prawns on little wood skewers.  I don’t know what they basted them with...but YUM!

We chat, David arrives bearing wine, then Betty with a gift of lovely white serving plates in a reusable Christmas bag.  And bless Cynne’s soul, not only is she an amazing cook, but she’s wonderfully thoughtful as well.  The doorbell rings.  “Oh, it’s David,” she says.  Then she goes to the door.  “Hi David!” Then when they arrive in the kitchen, “Meg, you remember David.” What a dear sweet woman she is.  Same thing when Betty arrived.  She found a way to work Betty’s name in to the conversation three times in the course of a minute.  Now I remembered both of them, their faces, the things we had talked about at dinner the other night, and now...I remember their names.  With a hostess like that, you feel in safe hands indeed. 

Then into the dinning room we went.  Accompanying these beautifully laid out bowls of...well I don’t have the words to do it justice and to say, “soup” just doesn’t seem right.  A mix of savory, subtle spice, a blop of something dairy with a sprinkling of tiny chives, the accent, a tang of green apple perhaps?  And I’m eating and trying not to dance in my seat.  So happy that I’d told her of my secret desire to do an eating tour of France.  Now I don’t have to, Calgary is so much closer!

Then rack of lamb, on a bed of orzo pasta, a yellow and green peppers that I usually avoid, but these were so delicious I gobbled every last scrap up!

And finally...THE DESERT!  A concoction of ice cream and the best...THE VERY BEST chocolate sauce I have EVER tasted!!!  I’m telling you, I am an expert on these things and this was, without a doubt THE BEST!  It was so good that if I had been at home I would have tipped the dessert cup to my mouth to get the very last drops and I might have even had to indulge in sliding my finger around the inside for the bits around the sides.  You will be happy to know, dear bloggers that I managed to restrain myself, but just barely!  But that was only half of the dessert, also on each plate was a banana and caramel tart.  Homemade and fantastic.  All complemented with a pipping pot of tea in the most darling teapot I have ever seen with a painting of a clothing line, and socks and knickers and what-not hanging by wood pegs. 

The conversation was real.  Genuine.  Nobody posing, or trying to be more-than.  A home in which one feels instantly welcome, warm and incredibly fortunate to be in.  It made me wish I lived in Calgary so I could have the opportunity to talk more, laugh more, be irrelevant with this wonderful group of friends. 

Posted by Meg Tilly on Friday, October 12, 2007 in Chewing the Fat

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