The Wedding Meal

Spring Pea Bisque

This is a piece I wrote about catering my brothers wedding 20 years ago, boy was I a mess but this is my story and how I got here today.

It would be a long flight from Oakland to Burlington, Vermont. I was nervous about going through security, because I had a nice-sized bindle of meth sown into the elastic waistband of the pair of chef pants I was wearing.

My brother Ethan was getting married at the family home in upstate New York. I’d been planning the menu for months. There would be a seven-course rehearsal dinner for thirty and the wedding reception the next day for one-hundred and twenty. I had five days to get it ready. I would be sourcing all the meats and produce locally and had a restaurant owner friend who had agreed to let me use some walk-in space.

I was bummed that Jojo wasn’t coming with me. She had yet to make it to our place in Keene Valley that held such a special place in my heart. Things weren’t going well between us. We barely talked and our sex life was non-existent. Something was going on and I had no idea how to fix us. I tried all sorts of romantic gestures and always seemed to get the same reaction, like running into a wall of ice. It was times like these in my life when I would retreat to the kitchen. It was home, the only place I felt comfortable in. When my entire life was falling apart around me, I knew the moment I stepped through that doorway into the kitchen it would all be okay. At least I could always cook.

So this trip was just what I needed. I’d be cooking for my family all week and although it was Ethan getting married, I’d be the star of the show. Man, I was so fucking full of myself.

I breezed right through security and headed to the gate. I couldn’t find an open bar. I needed something to take the edge off. I hadn’t slept in two days. Heading for the bathroom, I did a quick line before we boarded. At this stage of my addiction I could do a big line and still fall right asleep. I remember knocking back a few gin and tonics as soon as we got in the air, and then I was out. Yeah, I was a professional. Getting loaded enough to not have to feel anything was my specialty.

Walking off the plane and into the small airport in Burlington I immediately spotted my dad. John has lived in the same house in downtown Burlington ever since I can remember. He had remarried when I was three or four. I was the ring bearer at his wedding and went with him and Joan on their honeymoon to Niagara Falls. I’m not sure why they had made the decision to bring me along, but Joan tells me I was a very happy little kid and well behaved. They bought me a miniature replica of a cannon from the revolutionary war, is about all I remember; that, and that the Falls were quite impressive.

At some point every summer when we were in Keene Valley I would spend a week in Burlington with John, Joan, and my three siblings. Adriano is the eldest and is seven years younger than me. Then there are Maria and Oriana, my two little sisters. Bob and Dessie also had a child when I was ten years old. His name is Sam and he was born on the 4th of July. Ethan also has a differ- ent dad from me. All in all I have three brothers and two sisters, all of them half, although I never refer to them as such. They are just my brothers and sisters. But more about them later.

John was a stay-at-home dad and Joan was a physical therapist at the hospital in Burlington. He had spent most of my childhood remodeling the house on Lafayette Place. Burlington was like a mini version of Boulder, complete with a red brick pedestrian mall, designed, I believe, by the same person. John had constructed a Russian fireplace right through the middle of the house that would heat the entire four bedrooms in the winter with just a few logs. I would only being stay- ing for one night on this trip as I had to get to Keene Vally and start cooking. John made a fresh sourdough pizza crust and baked us a pizza loaded with vegetables and pepperoni. He is most likely a better cook than me, and was always experimenting with new ideas. He would drive me to the Essex Fairy the next morning at 10am.

A short twenty-five minute ride across Lake Champlain, the Essex-Charlotte Ferry has always given me a deep sense of peace. The high peaks of the Adirondack State Park coming into view put me at ease and make me smile deep inside. Dessie would be waiting to pick me up on the other side and a peaceful forty-five minute drive through winding mountain roads to the Big House would be a nice start to a crazy week. I was really good at only showing the side of my life that was going well. Years later, Dessie told me she did sense that something was off with me that week, but she just wasn’t sure what it was.

We arrived at the Big House before noon and it was already a buzz of activity as everyone was getting the house ready for the big event in five days. The house has two kitchens, a summer kitchen and a winter kitchen, and I would be utilizing both. I was delighted to find that someone had already stocked the refrigerator in the summer kitchen with beer. I cracked a Molson Cana- dian Ale and got to work on sourcing all of my ingredients. There were a few local farms to visit and the Keene Valley Grocery had a great little meat department. I would adjust the menu as needed.

I had fresh figs stuffed with bleu cheese, wrapped with prosciutto and drizzled with a balsamic reduction on the menu. This would be easy to execute if I was in California but finding fresh figs in upstate NY was going to be a challenge. Meanwhile, my first stop was River Mead farm. Rob Hastings, the owner, agreed to meet with me and walk the field. He had beautiful baby potatoes, a perfect addition to my gorgonzola-crusted filet mignon. Crisp sweet peas would make a silky bisque which I could drizzle with a bit of truffle oil I’d brought from California. Rob had enough fresh herbs to supply the entire menu. Fragrant mint would turn into a pesto that would be the perfect balance I needed for the bisque. A quick trip to the Valley Grocery to make sure they had the tenderloin coming in that I had ordered last week, and it was time to get in the kitchen.

The next three days were a blur. I had two refrigerators but so much food that it wouldn’t all fit, so I was using coolers and rotating food in and out so nothing would stay in the danger zone for too long. The family was very helpful and I put all the cousins to work peeling and chopping various things. Aunt Tam was taking care of all the bread. She was a pro and has been making bread her whole life. The was also a cake production team, not my department, and I happily stayed out of it.

By the time Friday came, I had barely slept but was ready. All the cousins would be servers and I had a longtime Keene Valley friend to help me plate. We served everything on old mismatched china, and the soup was served in ancient tea cups we had found in the butlers pantry. The rehearsal dinner was flawless and by ten p.m. I was working on making sure we were set for the reception food.

I would serve one-hundred and twenty people at 4 p.m. the next day. Bob had driven all over up- state NY for six hours to find fresh figs, and now they were stuffed and ready to go. The massive grill we had rented arrived the next morning at 8 a.m. Jeremy Quinn had volunteered to grill chicken for two hours. It was a beautiful ceremony, kicked off with bag pipes that echoed throughout the valley. I managed to be in the ceremony and still put all the food out ten minutes after it was over.

It had been a glorious week, although fueled party for me by meth and my increasing drug-induced instability. Tears filled my eyes as I waved to my mother from the departing ferry. I missed my family already. I didn’t want to go back to my life in California, I just wanted to hit pause, but didn’t know how. I shook my dad’s hand at the terminal and headed inside to catch my flight. It was September 8th, three days before the anniversary of September 11th, and security was ramped up at the airport. I had been lazy, though, and instead of sewing the rest of my meth into my pants I had just tossed it under the insole of my left shoe. As I started to get closer to the front of the security line I realized they were making every other person take off their shoes and put them through the Xray machine.

My heart started pounding so hard I thought I might be having a heart attack. But I couldn’t leave the line at this point, it would look too suspicious. As I moved up closer to security I thought: this is it. My luck’s run out now and I’m going to end up in jail.  Sometimes, I’ve wished they’d caught me. But they skipped me by and I walked right through.

Spring Pea Bisque

Lots of fresh summer peas make this pea bisque with mint pesto, black truffle peelings, and truffle oil particularly bright and refreshing, It has a beautiful silky texture with the heavy cream. The mint compliments the fresh pea flavor perfectly, and the earthiness of the truffle elevates it to more than just a soup. Serve as a first course or just warm up a crusty baguette, dress some fresh greens, and you’ve got a meal.

      -  1 stick - 1/4 pound butter

      -  2 cups diced yellow onion

      -  1 large leek, diced and rinsed thoroughly

      -  3-4 stalks of celery

      -  2 teaspoons dried thyme

      -  1 cup white wine

      -  6 cups chicken broth or vegetable broth

      -  2 cups heavy cream

      -  1/4 cup chopped Italian parsley

      -  2 cups fresh spinach, packed

      -  4 cups fresh garden peas

      -  1/2 cup roasted garlic cloves

      -  Salt, white pepper, nutmeg and a pinch of cayenne to taste

      -  1/2 cup roux (equal parts butter and flour)
You won’t really taste the cayenne, the purpose is to give the soup depth and round out the flavor. I also like to keep tons of whole, roasted garlic in oil around the kitchen. It brings depth and a sweet, nutty flavor to everything from soups to sauces to salad dressings.

1.      Add the white wine and reduce by half

2.      Add the broth and heavy cream and simmer for 25-30 minutes

3.      Add the roasted garlic, spinach and peas.

4.      With the heat off whisk in your roux and season

5.      Simmer for 5 minutes before transferring to a blender

6.      Top with mint pesto, a few black truffle peelings and just a few drops of white truffle oil. Don’t worry if you can’t find the truffle. This soup is still delicious without it.

For the pesto:
- 2 cups mint leaves, packed
- 1/4 cup toasted pine nuts *play around with other nuts such as pistachios or almonds - 2 tablespoons chopped fresh garlic
- 1/4 cup grated parmesan cheese
- Juice from 1 lemon
- 1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
- Salt and black pepper to taste

1.In a food processor start with the mint, nuts, garlic, lemon juice ,and a few tablespoons of the olive oil. When you have a nice paste going slowly drizzle in the rest of the olive oil

Transfer to a small mixing bowl, fold in the parmesan cheese, and season with salt and pepper