What We Eat When We Eat Alone - Deborah Madison [75]
Another long pause ensues. “On the second thought,” Phillip says, quickly reversing directions, “Let’s skip the main course. I’d have pears. Pears are an investment in the future. They take years to mature, so there’s the idea there of commitment and time.”
It’s increasingly clear that Phillip will have to aim his menu at another cook, or the kind of person who knows about growing pears and sourcing the elusive Olympia oyster, who sees the virtue in a well-made broth. No one else had brought up rarity and provenance as part of their seduction menu, but there are women I’m confident this would work for.
“What about chocolate,” Lindsay pipes up? She’s already asked about chocolate a few times, but Phillip has avoided answering her. Again he ignores her question. The dessert he’s dreaming of consists of those pears, or raspberries and figs, with a crème fraîche or honey sorbet.
“But the next best thing,” he says, finally turning to Lindsay, “would be a gelato by the Trevi fountain and a little piece of 70 percent chocolate.”
I mention that there are no vegetables in this meal, taking, for once, a more sensible tack.
“Well, you can have vegetables in the morning,” Lindsay says, “if it matters.”
“Chocolate, yes, but the chocolate mustn’t be too big,” says a man who clearly had chocolate in mind. That, and wine. “A brownie would be too much. More like a mousse, a creamy mousse from a shop. And for wine, the creamiest of cream Sherries with a chocolately color with strength and subtly. A half-bottle. Or a full bottle, leaving half for seducing someone else the next week.”
What about side dishes? Everyone mentions oysters and steak, but there are seldom sides, I’ve noticed.
“There will be sides,” an English bachelor declares. “Game chips, which is a potato halfway between a chip (as in fish & chips) and French fries. Just a few of them. The person I’m seducing is a healthy eater, but she wouldn’t make steak and chips for herself, so some vegetable has to be in there. It might be a little salad. Watercress. It doesn’t interest me, but it has to be there. This makes her feel that I’m not absolutely wicked. And watercress is a little bit tingly and spicy.”
Women think about seduction meals, too, of course. A tiny female friend of ours says that she believes, along with MFK Fisher, that things shouldn’t get too heavy.
“Start with some salted, almondy almonds with a light drink, like sherry or champagne. For the first course we’d have ravioletti with finely chopped greens. I use Swiss chard and sauté it first, and ricotta cheese,” she explains. “Make the ravioli no bigger than a quarter. Boil them in lightly salted water and float them in a rich beef or veal stock. Add a little Parmigiano-Reggiano.
“For the second,” she continues, “I think scallops sautéed and served in a light wine reduction. I like to serve asparagus cut on the bias. We’d make that together. Maybe have a little bread with the scallops.
“And for dessert,” she concludes, “this gorgeous truffled white cheese with bread. Fruit in season—grapes, cherries. We’d feed each other. Beeswax candles lit at the table. I got him!”
Peggy proposes a fish menu, too, but not one that is slithery. Her’s has more substance and chew. “I’d do a fish baked with braised fennel, white wine, and olives,” she says. “Then I’d give him my roasted tattooed potatoes from my olive oil book. And then I’d give him a wonderful arugula salad with candied walnuts and slivered beets with crumbled blue cheese over the top. I’d give him wine jelly for dessert. Marsala in jelee.”
The quivery Marsala in jelee is based on a recipe from Peggy’s book, Simple Soirees. Light, cool, and seductive, it also has a bit of buzz to it. It’s a perfect dessert.
A woman told us of a meal she cooked for her girlfriend when they were first getting together. It included oysters and a big steak—they’re both Texans—but also contained a little surprise, because the one cooking had done some undercover work beforehand. Talking to the mother of her