The Dinner Mix

Meals are extremely personal. Almost up there with asking someone to hop in bed. It’s a carnivorous act whether it includes meat or not. Eating is inherently consuming— the loss of oneself to the instinctive satiation of hunger. Meals are also intimate in their patterns of ritualistic comfort. Sharing forks, pouring wine glasses and passing the pepper all require a common trust and comfort among partaking parties. It makes perfect sense so many religious ceremonies should revolve around the meal and all of its pieces—the harvest, the preparation, the blessing and the sharing. Though I do not practice anymore, I still find the Catholic Eucharistic ritual mysterious and beautiful; the most basic of foods—wine and bread—set for a communal feast. There is also something ancient and venerable in the traditional three-hour Seder that tingles my godless bones with envy.

I certainly have my own rituals, which have developed over the season of my short life, and I’ve found that I cling to them unconsciously as the grounding points in my day. Mike leans over the counter to sup cereal each morning, while I prefer to sit by the window and read the news over a pulpy grapefruit halve, enjoying those last quiet moments of the morning. Each noontime, I look forward to the company of my friend Rachel, and her gregarious anecdotes or opinionated insights analyzing the way one may peel fruit, discard crusts or mix food groups. (She inspired Mike to eat his apples in such a way that the final bite is always the most satisfying.) Every night, whether cook-in or carryout, I take pleasure in the clink of forks or the heated (increasingly political) conversation because I am always in good and familiar company.


Sometimes it can be quite wonderful to let someone strange or unfamiliar into that sacred process. It can also be quite horrific, but for now, let us entertain the prior scenario. Lately, my friend Ramsey has been joining us for Sunday dinners, and though he is not strange or unfamiliar, he is certainly a new element in our table setting. It seems almost as if a new ritual has begun when Ramsey comes through the door with a bottle of wine, folds his long limbs onto a chair and banters on with us about the latest music, the last Obama speech, or how damn good the Celtics are looking. Conversations take off and leave off at the perfect intervals; dishes are washed and dessert is served as we all savor the last bit of the weekend, sighing into a deep, wine-washed hum of the dinner mix.

To: Mike, Les & Barack [our cat], From: G-Rams [As in Barack’s Godfather Ramsey]
Dinner Mix- June 8, 2008
1. California Stars, Wilco
2. Foux Dr. Fafa, Flight of the Conchords
3. Heart of Mine, Peter Salett
4. Gray in LA, Loudon Wainwright
5. Jacksonville Skyline, Whiskeytown
6. Into the Mystic, Van Morrison
7. Stand by Me, John Lennon
8. Waterloo Sunset, The Kinks
9. Nothing, Mason Jennings
10. Halah, Mazzy Star
11. Dancing in the Moonlight, King Harvest
12. I Know You Tried, Luna
13. Closer to You, Brandi Carlisle
14. We’re All in this Together, Ben Lee
15. Pretty Baby, Marty Sunshine
16. Pubelo Nuevo, Buena Vista Social Club
17. Nice Time, Bob Marley
18. Ripple, Grateful Dead
19. Dream in Color, Grant Lee Phillips
20. Street Talkin’, Slick Rick