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Quote by Vicki Perry

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The Chat Room

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Vicki Perry

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“Without being fully aware of what I was doing, I flipped the lights on in my kitchen and began to measure out chicken stock and arborio rice. The butternut squash in my pantry found itself quartered and set to roast in the oven. I plucked a few leaves of sage from my kitchen herb garden and minced them fine. Butter, shallots, rice, and herbs. Roasted squash and parmesan. The risotto took shape, its savory scent filling my apartment.”

“Today I have prepared for you a pork and roasted squash quesadilla with fontina and chèvre, served with a pistachio chimichurri and a honey vinegar crema. Please enjoy." I take my fork and knife and cut off a tip of the quesadilla, dragging it through the crema, and using my knife to make sure I get some chimichurri on the bite as well. I close my eyes and taste. The tortilla is crisp; the pork surprisingly juicy, despite being a lean cut that was reheated; the acorn squash sweet. The fontina was a good choice. It's super gooey but has a mild flavor that lets the pork and squash shine. The slightly sweet-and-sour crema works well, as does the bright herbal crunch of the chimichurri. Frankly, if I'd been served this dish in a restaurant, I'd have been pleased.”

“We had been able to smell Bridges's vinegary sauce, its sharp notes tickling our noses, as we sat in the chapel. We knew what was awaiting us, and we knew that it would be good. The food that the caterer had prepared for the estimated thirty-five guests was served as the appetizers: dainty pimento-cheese sandwiches- made not with white sandwich bread but with a brioche loaf, which started a wave of "Oh, my!" and "Oh, dear!" among those of my great-uncle's generation who weren't quite sure that they approved of the substitution but eagerly ate the sandwiches anyway, bite-size buttermilk biscuits with thin slivers of baked ham, little tureens of summer squash casserole. I had ordered that dish for Kelly, the lone vegetarian in a sea of pork eaters. It was also a veiled reference to our childhood nemesis Sally Campbell, who, beautiful as she might have been and still may be, would always be to us a member of the humble squash family.”