I worry when I write these from a state of overwhelmedness. I know I can sound like I’m whining- I nearly always sound like I’m whining. And then I invariably get a reply from someone who tells me to stop feeling sorry for myself.
But the reason you haven’t had your mailbox stuffed from Feast in the past three or four days is that I’m having trouble keeping up with it all. I’m writing from a new computer that I got from a scratch-and-dent site that moves like it’s walking neck-deep in honey. And the point-of-sale computer is gradually shuffling off its mortal coil every day, while we learn how to use the ridiculous steam oven that we just bought to replace the old one that gasped its last gasp weeks ago.
And while I’m acutely and gratefully aware that these are First World problems one and all, my little amygdala is quivering from each item on the list stacking up to reach my threshold. Also, if you’ve never listened to the noise a bermixer makes, I invite you to the kitchen of Feast to discover the cumulative effects of its less than soothing sounds.
That business off my chest, though, I already feel a bit more grounded- when I write these emails, I feel like I’m on a therapist’s couch in a New Yorker cartoon (I adore you, Roz Chast.) So thanks for listening, or at the very least, just hitting “delete” and not writing back to tell me I’m a spoiled baby.
I’m here now just to catch you up one upcoming Feast-related business: First, there’s a wine tasting this Saturday at 2:00, albeit still a strictly virtual one. But here’s the straight dope on that:
and, while I’m still a couple of dishes away from completing the August menu that begins on Tuesday, it’s nearly done, and we do indeed have a menu of specials prepared for Ferragosto, the Feast of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary, but truly the co-opting of a pagan-era celebration of Augustus, hence the name. (I love the calendar, and I love even more that September, October, November and December- the seventh, eighth, ninth and tenth months of the calendar originally, as you can see by their names- have been displaced two months by a couple of Caesars, July for Julius and August for Augustus. I can’t decide whether it’s language or roman history or the audacity of political leaders that I enjoy the most. Probably not the audacity, though.)
In any case, it’s with some trepidation that I order squash blossoms, because the world is a different place right now, a place in which fried squash blossoms are not consumed within a moment of their emergence from the fryer, still crisp and delicious, but rather one where fried squash blossoms are put into a box and we all cross our fingers and hope they don’t steam themselves into a sad and depressing texture by the time they arrive home to your plate. Again, First World problems, to be sure, but when we’re all looking for solace on our plate, we want it to be the way we imagined it would be. So here’s that menu, which won’t be available until August (formerly October) fifteenth:
The good news is that with every Italian wine available at 10% off, we can at the very least drown our First World sorrows in a Falanghina, or a Nerello Mascalese, or the like.
That’s it for now, I think. There’s the regular menu, of course, and we’d welcome your call and your order, especially while we have a couple of orders left of our various specials- steak au poivre, individual banana-rum Bundt cakes, and so on- we have little enough to do around here with an empty dining room, so you could call and say hello at 326-9363. And you could seek solace in food and drink, like any good person would in these difficult times.
Keep your eyes peeled for more emails about the upcoming August menu, and more front line worker food donations, and the early return of the Last Sunday wine tasting (hint: it will come well before the last Sunday- I have plans in the works for Sunday, August(us) 9th. With, incidentally, a couple of Italian guys, so you can get ready to order some really good wine to accompany your Ferragosto meal.
Thanks, everyone, for your kind attention, your patience and your support for a bunch of people over here who think you’re the greatest.