Mary, part 2 (or How I Came to Love Food and Entertaining)

I have to give credit for my parents first and foremost for my love of food and of entertaining. They are both true foodies and know how to throw a mean party. However, Mary loved food more than just about anyone I know, and as roommates and then neighbours, we shared recipes and hosted some great shindigs.

Funnily enough, when I logged into Blogger this evening, Mary's last blog post randomly popped up on my homepage. Read it here and notice how many times she mentions food and drink. There is other beautiful content as well, mind, but the woman loved ice, diet coke, and great food.

When I was cooking for Christmas this year it seemed that almost every recipe I made was given to me by Mary. My curried cheese pate, white chocolate covered pretzels with m&ms sprinkled on, buttermilk chocolate sheet cake and chocolate mint brownies are all hers, and she is responsible for my love of cosmopolitans, feta cheese on everything and red leicester cheese with digestives. She would smile if she knew that the buttermilk chocolate cake is now the favourite birthday cake of several of my friends and their friends' friends.

Mary loved to entertain. We hosted a Christmas party every year which involved getting our guests to bring specific dishes chosen by Mary (I've never met anyone so able and willing to get people to do what she wanted them to do whilst still being incredibly loveable). I had never heard of a Parker House roll before meeting her, and I was sent to find them for our first party. It had to be Parker House rolls, nothing else would do, and then we filled them with tinned ham and cheese and brushed them with some sort of mustard sauce. They were amazing, I admit it.

Mary was all about the finishing touches...flowers, the right platters and serving utensils, music, candles...she knew how to create an atmosphere. I never caught the knack, but I remember the way she knew just where she wanted things to go, how she wanted people to feel, what she wanted them to smell when they walked through the door. She had an eclectic sense of taste, leaning towards shabby chic with an international and homemade flair, and she brought it all together with elegance and warmth. I loved being at home with her, and other people must have felt the same because we attracted loads of people to our little abode.

When we lived next door to each other we celebrated Easter together on several occasions. Twice she convinced me to spend an outrageous sum of money on brunch at a local hotel. Mary was like that--she'd spend money on experiences without a thought for the cost. This is something I always chastised her for, but in retrospect I think she lived life so fully and so enthusiastically that she did more in her 43 years than most of us can hope to do if we live to 100. The brunch was magnificent. I can still remember vividly the beautiful display, the table where we sat, the omelet and waffle stations, and the wonderful array of salads and desserts. Another year we firmly insisted that we couldn't afford dinner out, so we brought a very tiny Cerys to hers and ate lamb with a fresh mint aioli. I'd found the recipe in the Washington Post food section, another experience to which she had introduced me--she faithfully bought the Saturday paper and cut out recipes she intended to try. I specifically remember her cooking a fresh sea bass filet over greens one week night in our home on Idylwood Drive.

When Mary was sick and in hospital, I was trying to explain to my girls why I was so sad, and I told them that my very dear friend was very ill and possibly dying. Cerys remembered Mary well, but the other two were not so sure. Cerys said to them, "Remember, she's the one who came and ate all our ice." It's true. Mary loved her ice water, and she had just been to Sierra Leone where ice was truly a luxury. So she came to ours and guzzled ice, enjoyed curries and my home cooked meals, and blessed our home with her presence for the last time.

I find it strangely comforting to think Mary will live on in my memory every time I make one of her decadent treats.