The Tie that Binds

Sixteen years ago tonight Jeff told me he loved me for the first time, to which I replied, "Thank God." Within 10 seconds these two words gave him the courage to suggest we should get married, and it took less than a second for me to agree. That Tuesday evening started the adventure we call marriage, and food has played an integral part of our shared history together.

The friendship that began our love affair centered on frequent dinners together. Once, Jeff walked into my classroom in Kingman, AZ., and said, "Do you ever do anything impetuous?" (Obviously, he didn't know me well at this point in time, and he has never had to ask that particular question again.) This query led to a spur-of-the-moment trip to nearby Laughlin, NV., for dinner. Another time, I invited him to dinner and presented grilled shark steaks, which he approached with a bit of trepidation, but enjoyed in the end. A weekend trip to the Grand Canyon included two roasted Cornish game hens I had cooked the night before, and during dinner at his place he impressed me with Chicken Kiev. I guess the way to anyone's heart is through the stomach, after all.

Not long after we were married food became a source of debate and sometimes frustration. I had grown up eating a wide variety of garden-fresh produce, Tex-Mex creations, home baked goodies, and comforting Southern casseroles. He had grown up on a basic meat and potatoes diet supplemented with take out. He thought my food was strange, and I thought his was bland. But to his credit, if I cooked it, he ate it (at least once). He learned to couch his distaste for some things in kind terms, and I learned not to be hurt that he didn't appreciate spicy enchiladas, fried okra, or baby asparagus with hollandaise sauce. One of my fondest dinner memories from these early days happened the weekend he met my family. We had been married about a month when five of my relatives (parents, aunt, uncle, and grandmother) arrived in Laughlin for a vacation. For dinner my family chose a Mexican restaurant in Harrah's not knowing that Jeff hated spicy food. He ordered chicken enchiladas and ate every last bite with a smile on his face.

Of course, one of my first meals with his parents wasn't much better. During a visit a couple of weeks before we eloped, Jeff made some off-color comment during dinner and I playfully elbowed him and said, "You weren't raised in a barn," to which his imposing German immigrant mother haughtily replied, "No, but I was." Needless to say, this shook the very foundation of my Southern upbringing, and it was all I could do not to utter the words, "Well, bless your heart." Still, all's well that ends well, and we managed to survive those early tussles over food, though Jeff still harasses me over selling his Fry Daddy in a garage sale when we left Kingman.

Nowadays, food is an adventure for both of us. We have a birthday tradition of being able to choose any meal the celebrant wants. Year before last, Jeff challenged me to create a chocolate-centered dinner party. Dessert was the easy part, but I also obliged with dishes like Caramelized Black Bean Butter (which includes cocoa), dates stuffed with cream cheese and chocolate bits, and squash filled ravioli complete with shaved chocolate and parmesan cheese. Another year for my own birthday I created a Mediterranean-inspired menu of gazpacho, spanakopita, Portuguese-style spiced shrimp, and ginger custard with mango. A couple of years ago we held a Christmas feast of bell pepper soup, eggplant gratin, pears with blue cheese, autumn salad, vegetable pot pie and a variety of desserts including vegetarian mincemeat and ginger-brandy cheesecake. Last November's dinner party had a harvest theme and included eggplant spread with pita chips, baked scallops, dates with goat cheese on greens, sweet potato soup, roasted marinated vegetables, and shrimp creole. For dessert we had pumpkin cheesecake (Paula Dean's recipe, of course), with molasses lace cookies.

All of this food has created a bond of shared meals and shared memories. Jeff and I have drowned our sorrows in pints of ice cream, stressed over our jobs with Hershey's kisses and jars of peanut butter, celebrated our victories with pork tenderloin in cherry sauce, integrated into our respective families with cookouts and cookies, and built unity by discussing other family members' food choices with derision. Food is one of the many things that has brought us together and continues to entwine our lives through daily meals and meetings of the mind.