I just moved with my family from the Northern Virginia, Washington DC area to Southern California. Of the many memories of our stay on the east coast, we were able to connect with a few before we left.
Cozy and warm are two words that come to mind when I think of the dining table at the Odell's. Recently, as I ate the vibrantly layered mediterranean salad followed by the warm and fragrant chicken khoresh (stew) with rice, I was reminded of the other meals I’ve eaten at this table over the years: there was the khoresh with apricots and chicken and fesenjan, the one with ground walnuts and pomegranate molasses; the homemade bread to soak up the sauce; the container of freshly made bolognese that was given as a gift; and the hand-whipped cream over dessert. There were the stories that stood out: the one with buying liver wrapped in paper from the local butcher that was still warm when brought home or waiting in line on a chilly day to buy roasted beets from a street vendor. And there were the conversations about everyone’s interests that invariably made a reference to the Italian class where we first met many years ago, not knowing we were going to stay in touch but glad that we did.
The farm in Delaplane, Virginia, is by the mountains and has a rolling landscape that at different times in the year is filled with strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, red and black raspberries, apricots, peaches, apples, pears and more. I visited this farm at least once every year I’ve been in Virginia (including that one drive back home on the smaller roads when I found the town of Middleburg and a sign for a school that led me to my first job at an independent school). I still remember the farmer telling me that the best way to pick just-ripe apricots was to gently shake the branches of the tree and pick the fruit that falls down easily. I visited the farm one last time before my move. The farmer used the word "Eden" to describe the land in California for fruits and vegetables and then added, “Send me a postcard”.
Washington DC was close to home in Northern Virginia. The lush green lawn on the National Mall flanked by the museums, memorials and stately buildings was a choice spot for picnics and conversations, more so recently, with take-out meals and outdoor dining. I met a dear friend here for another picnic just before I flew out west. Born and brought up in Southern California and having spent a large amount of time on the east coast he spoke warmly of what the east and west each had to offer, yet there was a touch of yearning when he spoke of the place, people and food of California - there was always the story of the pie his mom made with a huge pile of freshly picked strawberries that he liked talking about.
