"Saturday Night Special".. a Food Lovers Family Dinner.

“Saturday Night Special”
by: Joshua Elliott
The short ribs were braising in an oversized cast iron skillet in red wine and beef reduction. I was working the mushroom risotto as if I were working on a Saturday night on the line, and the smells of the rosemary, red burgundy, and garlic filled the air. There was also a faint smell of dirty dog as my Dad’s terrier Dixie roamed throughout the house aimlessly trying to figure out where all the food was. The doors and windows were open throughout the house as I had smoked out the house when I seared the short ribs, but it was a beautiful day in the middle of the country at my Dad’s house. The temperature was less than 65, the sun was out, and things were going just fine. I had been steadily sipping on the red Burgundy as my Dad slowly drank Dos Equis. The food was working and the mood was right for a great night ahead. I picked up my phone and it was my Mother. She was telling me that she would be at the house in an hour and asked me “Josh what can I get”? I said you can be the pastry chef for this dinner so surprise me! She would show up later with two store desserts from Kroger. A snickers cake and strawberry shortcake. I pledged her still because they were delicious nonetheless.
This would be the last night I will see either of my parents for the next year at least. This is neither a pleasurable or desired realization I start to have as I pull the meal together so we can sit down to eat. My parents divorced about seven years ago but they seem to better friends than before, however I do not really know how much this is saying. They are very proud people and when we get together you would not be able to tell that things seemingly “crumbled” not too long ago after 25 years together.

These are some of the thoughts I have as the roasted carrots and parsnips come out of the oven alongside the roasted sweet potatoes. I have spiced the sweet potatoes with some pumpkin pie spice so it smells like Thanksgiving in Burgundy, France: at least to me. Kaitlyn my 21 year old younger sister says “I hate mushrooms; does all the rice have mushrooms”? “Yes! Just eat it”, I say. “You will like it”, which she later confesses she does. Then I find out my Mom too despises mushrooms. I say to them “why didn’t you tell me this yesterday when I told you I was cooking mushroom risotto”? She gives me a great Motherly response along the lines of everything you cook is good, so I didn’t want to say anything. She picks through the mushrooms and says that the rssotto is one of her favorite things of the night even with all the mushrooms. What a great Mom I have; Thank you I say as I continue to plow through my dinner, still drinking red Burgundy. At the risks of sounding like a lush, what a difference a few glasses of wine does when you’re hanging out with the family?
Sitting at the table with my Mom, some family friends; Big John and his son Little John, my sister at the bar, and my Dad we steadily devoured the meals I had prepared, sopping all of the savory juices with toast baguette. Big John is not a clever nickname for my Dad’s friend. He is big. He is 6’4” tall and easily weighs 300 lbs. This moniker is not a clever or ironic nickname. His son Little John aptly named little only because he is the son or the junior if you will. He is not quite as imposing as his father, but still a big boy, and only 21 years old so he probably still has some growing in him I figure. Over the course of cooking Big John was my student of the day inquiring many questions to which I was excited to answer because he was asking me about subjects I am very passionate about; food, cooking, ingredients, and wine to be exact. I had started cooking the meal around 2:00 pm and we worked our way slowly through the entire process starting with the short ribs, which I let braise for three plus hours. We would begin to eat at 7:00 pm. I was not in a hurry at all. I prepared everyone the day before and let them know this

would be a slow day. I cooked up some creamy spinach artichoke dip for everyone to munch on in the meantime, and it seemed to do the trick pretty well.
We all sat around for almost 2 hours, talking, eating slower and slower as time progressed. Trying to find a little more room if at any way possible, pretty typical right? After the strawberry shortcake and a cold beer I thought I suppose it is time to clean up. To my surprise and delight my mother had “decided” to clean the kitchen up for the most part. I helped her with the last bits and packed the remaining short ribs and risotto away. In the morning we will all wake up before I go to the airport and have a traditional Southern style breakfast of biscuits and gravy. My dad has even heated up the short ribs and to add a little twist to the meal and we tear the meat up and we put a little on top of the plate. I have never had that before in that fashion, but let me tell you it will not be the last time.
I get my things packed up after breakfast, unexcitedly I say good bye to my Dad and hop in the car with my Mom and Sister to get to the airport. When we get there I see my Mom is on the brink of tears as she is at this time as usual, we say good bye I give her a huge hug , embrace my sister and go in to the airport trying not to draw this out too long in fear of crying myself. I go through the usual airport banter to get to the terminal, hop on the plane knowing what awaits me is my new home in South Florida, and the usual grind of work and school every day. I am already looking forward to the next time I will get to do this.