Happy Thanksgiving!

So here we are in beautiful Wichita, Kansas, at the Hutchinson ranch, with three cousins and Alex slowing down after dinner, trying to watch "The Princess Bride" despite several skips in the DVD.  The kids are winding down enough that it isn't as big a deal to them as it is to the adults, who are profoundly disappointed every time the DVD stalls out on us.

This is a week of rest for me, or as close to rest as I'm allowed to get these days.  I do have several projects in my briefcase, including a couple of briefs and an oral argument I've got to get ready for, but I catch a few hours of work here and there before everyone else gets up, or while Alex and Ella-Anne are having their naps.  Other than that, it's family time here in the 'Ta. 

And because it's family time, Ella-Anne doesn't lack for laps to sit in, or grandparents to hold her while she's having a "ba-ba" (bottle of formula).  Alex is in perpetual motion, chasing or being chased by her cousins Sam, Noah, and Jill or -- when the cousins are at their home -- walking around the house going "Where are the cousins?  Where did they go?"

Jill and Alex, who are about the same age (Jill was four months old, I think, when Alex was born), were playing a hysterical game earlier today.  Jill would chase Alex into the living room, and Alex would shake a finger at Jill and say "Go away, Mommy!" They both would squeal with laughter, and then reverse roles -- Alex would chase Jill from the living room into Papa's office, and Jill would turn around and say to Alex, "Go away, Mommy!"  Repeat until bored.  This was minutes of fun for the girls.

Last night, Alex played another game of her own making with Jane.  Jane was sitting in a wing-back chair in the living room, and Alex placed a wooden box that holds blocks at her feet.  Alex would kneel behind the box, in somewhat of a penitent pose, and ask, "What should I do now, Teacher Mommy?"  Mommy would say something like "I think you should give Nana a hug and a kiss," and Alex would follow instructions, giving Nana a hug and a kiss, and then returning to the box of penitence, where she would repeat, "What should I do now, Teacher Mommy?" 

Jane loved this game.  She was very sorry when it ended, because it was the only time Alex followed instructions 100%.  I believe we will be playing "Teacher Mommy" when we get back home.

Since it is the season, there are many things to be thankful for.  Jane and I are thankful most of all for each other, and the fact that we were in the right places at the right times ten and a half years ago.  We are thankful for our families, and their extended circles of loved ones.  We are grateful for our own surprisingly vast circle of friends, hundreds of whom are evidenced on our Facebook accounts alone.  We are grateful for our own health, and for that of our two daughters.  We are grateful as anything for those two little girls, Alex and Ella-Anne, who have made our lives richer with every ba-ba and every diaper.  We are thankful for the Gladney Adoption Agency, for Mamaw Peggy and Donna, the women who took such wonderful care of our daughters before we could arrive to pick them up and bring them into our lives.  Personally, I am grateful for Jane, and the wonderful mother and wife that she is.

And I am grateful that a bunch of insane comedy writers in the 1970s decided that the Pinedale Shopping Mall should be bombed with live turkeys.  On that note:  Happy Thanksgiving.

Mommy and Daddy go to dinner

One of the unintended advantages of having a six-year delay in starting our family was that Jane and I had many opportunities to discuss, and learn how much we agreed on, our values and theories of parenting.  For example:

• We are not short-order cooks.  After you're out of the baby-food phase, you'll eat what the entire family is having.
• We won't talk "baby talk" to you.  We'll use real words and expect you to learn them and use them, too.
• Mommy and Daddy will have regular "date nights."  This means that you will see, on a weekly basis, tangible evidence that Mommy and Daddy -- not you -- are the centerpiece of this family, and that our relationship is a rock on which you can rely.

This last one is what I want to write about today.  Saturday was Jane's birthday, and we managed to get one of the hardest dinner reservations in town -- a table at Komi in Washington, D.C.  In case you're interested, here's a review of Komi, which ranked as one of the few four-star places in the DC area this past year.  While another of our credos is that our children will be exposed to nice restaurants and learn how to dine like little ladies, it does not follow that they get to go along with us on every restaurant visit.

Komi is amazing.  No menu.  Just twenty-one courses, leisurely paced one after the other.  I probably can't recall every single course, but I'll describe a few of them.  We started with a perfect little rectangle (smaller and thinner than a domino) of raw kampachi, served with a little turbot broth.  Then a similar-sized pice of fluke, which looked similar but was a contrast to the kampachi in flavor and texture.  Then a silver-dollar-sized slice of a huge scallop, served in the scallop shell with a tangy cream (Greek yogurt-based?) on the bottom and a couple of slices of black truffle on top.  At some point later was the chef's one experiment with "molecular gastronomy," a "Caesar salad" which was a warm, but not-quite-crisp ball that looked like a hush puppy, but when bitten into released a warm explosion of flavor -- but for the temperature of the liquid inside, the flavor was unmistakably Romaine lettuce, Parmesan cheese, a bit of anchovy, etc. 

One of the earlier courses deserves special treatment, even by the standards that Komi had already set for itself by the first several courses.  A warm Medjool date, hollowed out and stuffed with Marscapone cheese, and sprinkled with a few grains of sea salt.  I am having trouble finding the words to express just how good this was.   It was sweet and chewy (the date), rich and creamy (the cheese), and salty and crunchy (the sea salt), all at once. 

The main event also deserves a paragraph of its own.  A slow-roasted goat shoulder, topped with sea salt that had been infused with fresh oregano so that the salt itself was green.  Served with homemade and griddled pita bread wedges, and a series of accompaniments -- tsaziki, pickled cabbage, eggplant puree, a habanero sauce, and more of the oregano salt.  Unlike most of the courses that had gone before, this was not a single bite, or a few bites, but a hearty counterpoint to what had gone before.  Not every table got the goat; some got suckling pig.  I'm glad that we got the goat shoulder; the next time we go -- and there will be a next time -- we'll make a request for the suckling pig.

So after three-plus hours at dinner, we headed back home, where we found our big little girl STILL AWAKE, long past her bedtime.  Another good visible reminder for Alex:  We may go have our Mommy-Daddy dinners, but we always come home.