Good food ends with good talk
My favorite part of graduate school has been the incredible people we have found ourselves surrounded by. Today was a small brunch – an Orphan Brunch, if you will, as most of our friends with local parentage headed home to celebrate This Day of Fathers. But at 10:30 our merry band began to assemble, the kitchen once again becoming part dance party, part chopping assembly line. Each addition makes me smile – what kitchen would be whole without Jan around to make coffee? and Kayla to professionally slice up mangoes? I am so lucky to know these people.
In honor of the small number of folks present we decided to do individual omelettes this morning, so while I was finishing up the cinnamon rolls (which turned out to be inedible – gluten is crucial to the traditional fluffiness here, so we’re going to need more testing on this one) everyone made a small plate of their preferred fillings (sauteed zucchini! mushrooms and onions! bacon! parsley!). Drill Sergeant Angelina then directed everyone through the process of adding their fillings to the omelettes (And, uh, guys, she *means* it when she says to be on stand-by with your ingredients…I think my ears are still ringing with the sound of her yelling for Morgan. Don’t mess with this chef!), and we sat down to another brunch of wonderful food (I’ve had a lot of omelettes, but Ange’s were incredible – perfectly light and fluffy).
I love that these have become Sit Around & Talk Events (™ of Noah), fueled by food. We skip from technology to politics to food to music, with no small amount of laughter and absurdity intertwining it all. And then the food and Mimosas settle, people fall asleep on the couch, others move to the porch to write and sit in this beautiful, lazy Ann Arbor afternoon. This is the meaning of summer. This is the meaning of happiness, held within the fragile balance of intense work weeks at new jobs, friends deep in the job hunt process, people leaving for new lives and new friends arriving in ours. I am in love with Summer Sundays.