Emilie Chiasson
I’ve always had a love affair with food. I think it stems from the fact that, as my dad says, my mother is “powerful in the kitchen”. My taste buds were graced with grand culinary delights from a young age.
Think of it. Food has so many wonderful components to it: nostalgia, culture, connection, health, community and who can forget pleasure!
Now that COVID restrictions have been loosened, over the weekend I did one of my most favourite things – I attended a dinner party.
A few months ago BC (that’s Before COVID), I traveled to Portugal with two dear friends of mine. Our adventure brought us so much greatness: beautiful sights, conversation with wonderful people, mouth-watering food, delicious wine, and, of course, when in Portugal you must drink port! So. Much. Port. I never knew how much I could love port. Oh, and my two friends fell in love – with each other.
During our trip, we executed what we called Project Love. If we met someone who impacted us in some way, we secretly left behind a love note telling them how much we appreciated them. Servers in restaurants, café owners, wine makers, Airbnb hosts and a wonderful couple from Chicago we met at our Quinta were a few of the recipients. We left behind our Instagram handle on the notes and most of the recipients looked us up after finding their note, heart warmed and touched by the gesture.
The dinner party this past weekend was a belated love note to say thank you to my friends’ colleague, a Sommelier who set us up with some fantastic wine and port tastings while we were there.
We decided to do a re-enactment of some of the dishes we consumed in Portugal.
The table was gorgeous! Green salad, octopus salad, chickpea herb spread, spicy shrimp, marinated fish, potatoes with tomatoes and onions and grilled bread. And the piece de resistance was the dessert, Pastel de Nata.
We poured bubbly – a fantastic bottle of white wine from our trip – and a bottle of 1988 red that Mark –the aforementioned Sommelier – brought with him to dinner.
As the food hit our taste buds, we moaned with delight, conversation flowed and Fado music was played.
For those of you who might not know what Fado is, a Portuguese Fado is equivalent to an East Coast kitchen party. Traditional instruments and songs are sung.
Upon meeting the couple from Chicago who we left a love note for during our recent trip, they (well she) instructed that we MUST attend a certain Fado show in Porto. The recommendation was given to us because Ally described the lead man in the Fado as being a “Portuguese Richard Gere”.
We got the contact info and sent Ricardo a text. He responded, we laughed and we confirmed three tickets.
We had been dressing rather casually for most of the trip, but on this evening, we decided to get gussied up – just in case Richard Gere was looking.
Before going to the show we went to a special little restaurant where we ate cheese, meat, cheese, and, of course, sipped on wine.
As promised, Ricardo was indeed worth the price of admission. The music was impressive, but the visuals were even more so.
My female friend and I decided to rip out some of our East Coast charm and go meet Mr. Big.
After a conservative group shot, I said we needed something better, something memorable. Ricardo was up for the challenge. We both kissed him as our male friend snapped photos.
I’ve kept in touch with that gorgeous creature since we departed from Portugal. The Fado music we were listening to at dinner was sent to us by him that day. It made the food taste even better.
Over dinner, the seven of us discussed many important things. How was the octopus prepared? Where did you get the octopus? Did you know that an octopus actually shoots an “arm” out at a female octopus to mate and after he does so, he dies?
That topic brought me to telling stories about being on safari in Tanzania during mating season. I saw a male ostrich dance for his female prospect. At the time, black rhinoceros’s were on the brink of extinction in Tanzania, and we randomly saw two of them mating. A camera with a powerful zoom entertained us for an hour.
The rhino story brought me to Kilimanjaro stories, which led me to telling about how my hiking mate had a bad accident in her pants on the mountain, and how I had to hide behind the only rock in sight in order to relieve myself of a potential disaster. Altitude really does a number on your body.
We roared with laughter.
New houses, COVID, relationships, wine, dogs, common connections, Trump – we covered so many topics as we dined.
We departed with plans to have another get together.
You see food isn’t just about the food; it’s more about the experience you have when sharing it with others.
As a single woman, I find that to be one of the most challenging parts. Cooking for one and eating alone certainly isn’t as gratifying as sharing it with others. Plus, if I buy cilantro, it means I must eat it for four days or it will go bad.
During COVID restrictions, I’ve been exercising my culinary talents as a means of passing time and I’ve also been enjoying my mother’s immense spreads as well.
We used to say you put on “Frosh 15” when you start university. I think “COVID 15” can be a new term.
I can burn off the extra pounds, but I will never forget the experiences I had while consuming the food that brought the jiggle.
With an insatiable love for human behaviour and circumstance, Emilie Chiasson absorbs the world around her, and turns her experiences into relatable stories. From her home town of Antigonish, NS, to her travels around the world, she never fails to connect with the characters and perspectives that make life a bit more colourful. Read more.
