The Oxford dictionary defines pensive as “engaged in, involving, or reflecting deep or serious thought”. Pensive sums up where I’ve lived for some time now.
Thoughts of time flood my mind infiltrating my veins, bringing and taking energy from my being. The concept of time and its indefinite progress – the past, present, and future – its value is inestimable. While we can make more money, we can’t earn more time.
Time is a gift. Despite living on a different continent than many of my nearest and dearest, thanks to a myriad of video call options, I see them. We take time to sit across from each other at desks, tables, sprawled on our sofas; we carve out blocks of time. We talk, laugh, cry, and cook together… I want each of you to know that I appreciate your time now more than ever before. I am grateful. Thank you for the unique gift of you.
Today I dream of being with my GFs, my tribe, in person. The round oak table seats twelve. Amy sets the table with our grandmother’s silverware. She lays a handwritten quote at each place; thoughtful sissy. I hug her tightly. Tears of happiness run down my face. Eda places wild flowers in a tall vase, her gentle smile lights up the room. Natalia breezes from the kitchen island to the table and back in her – well breezy – style, a salad bowl in one hand and a jug of cucumber-lemon infused water in the other.
Sofie arrives with her camera and bread in hand. She will capture this table, the mood, us. Rosy-cheeked Carolyn stands at my pasta board. She rolls up her sleeves like a pro and rolls out tagliatelle to toss with a simple tomato and basil sauce. Eleonora assembles the charcuterie board. Prosciutto, mortadella and salame Aquila make the cut along with a creamy ash covered goat cheese, semi-aged pecorino, and a blue of course because blues are amongst her favorites. There is honey, jam, nuts, and dried fruit. She’s in her happy place and that makes me happy. Elyssa stands beside her, always a helping hand equipped with a bottle of Franciacorta.
Arlene throws gelato in the freezer; she brought my favorite flavors; coffee, lemon, dark chocolate, and caramel. Christina plates the crostata and biscotti. She chops chunks of dark chocolate to fill my favorite white ceramic bowl from Ortigia. I can’t wait to taste it with a bit of blue cheese and a sip of Passito di Pantelleria. We have dessert for an army. Dear dear Elena puts on some jazz and chops fruit for a salad. The lemon chicken (recipe adapted from mom) bakes in the oven.
I grin from ear to ear. Laughter, chatter, and light fill my kitchen along with the comforting scent of citrus, rosemary and roasting potatoes. I sit back and take it all in. I would like to freeze this moment in time. Lisa lines up the sparkling wine glasses. She pours a Pét-nat to kick things off, “salute”. I give her a massive squeeze. We all toast to friendship, to health, to life, to time.
And while I can’t sit in person with my girls today, I’m grateful for our time. So until we meet again, slice the lemons, mince some garlic, and pour yourself a glass of wine. Let’s cook.
Lemon Chicken & Potatoes
Ingredients
- 1 chicken cut into pieces (skin on)
- baby potatoes
- 1 onion, sliced
- 2 lemons (1 sliced & 1 juiced)
- 1/2 cup olive oil
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 Tbsp. rosemary
- 1/2 Tbsp. salt
- 1/2 Tbsp. pepper
Instructions
Preheat the oven to 400°F/205°C.
Place chicken, potatoes, onion and sliced lemon in a roasting pan. Mix lemon juice, olive oil, minced garlic, rosemary, salt and pepper in a bowl. Pour mixture over the chicken making sure to coat it well.
Bake uncovered for 1 hour or until done.
