Platos pequenos, the email continued, and I could hear their easy Spanish from years spent in Costa Rica, where they met and then later, here in Brooklyn, became a family and, so, became Tyler's family, and then, in a way, became mine. Platos pequenos, my awkward, butchered repetition, later, to Tyler, from years spent working with an explorer named Dora. Platos pequenos. All the small plates we could think of.
Nights with Mathias and Allison run long and, always, warm in the overwhelming heat of one of our homes (ours in summer, theirs in winter.) Dirty dishes pile in the sink, music hums, beating the rhythm of our easy conversation. What's a Huckleberry friend? I'll wonder out loud when Sinatra croons Moon River and the discussion turns thoughtful and there's talk of Twain and the bend of friendship along a river and the color of huckleberries, and whatever the explanation, I think, whether they are Tyler's family or perhaps mine, or just two of the best-found people in this criss-cross life, I think, these, are huckleberry friends.
In any case, this was our meal. Which I wanted to share with you. Not so small at all.
|Stuffed devil peppers, white bean spread, marinated anchovies, bacon-wrapped prunes|
|Marinated octopus and roasted garlic|
|Tunisian Carrot Salad. Recipe here.|
|We tried to recreate a dish we had on our honeymoon in San Sebastian, Spain at a small but beloved pintxos bar, Bar Goiz Argi.|
|One of the best blue cheeses I have ever had in my life. Thank you Allison.|
|Mathias pours Txakoli, a spanish white wine that you pour from up high to create a happy fizz.|