Then one day, whilst shelling some pretty swell borlotti beans from my garden, there on the kitchen counter I see these four ears of, well...
And so I quick-steamed them and shaved off the kernels.
We'll never forget all our great adventures together, culinary and otherwise. We shared possibly the world's best breakfast ever at La Boqueria in Barcelona.
Then there was that weekend we spent as castaways off the coast of Maine. Luckily Mrs. M. had us provisioned with some very fine vittles. And we've welcomed in many new years--sometimes conscious, sometimes not.
Wishing you ¡Salud, dinero, y amor y el tiempo para disfrutarlos! To health, wealth, and love and the time to enjoy them!—Tom and Beth
The words that come to mind are "stalwart," "nurturing" and "loving" -- I mean to me, but I think maybe you've made it to the 25-year mark because that's what you've been to each other as well. To know you is to know your kitchen. I've told you before but--sorry guys, I could tell the story forever--I will remember all of my life the night that John and I drove over to your place for dinner, too tired and sick at heart even to talk in the car on the way over (Yes! John quiet for 15 minutes!) and we sat on your kitchen stools and drank wine and did absolutely nothing except watch Mister M mix up a dough for fresh pasta, and roll sheets of it over and over through some sort of pasta contraption, catching them gently as they fed through and feeding them in again. The sheets got thinner and thinner until a kind of light shone through them, and Mrs. M bustled in the background making delectable other things, and the kitchen filled with talk and steam and wonderful smells, and somehow, miraculously, suddenly we weren't tired and sick at heart any more but for those few hours, filled with a sense of well-being and even happiness. You are two of my favorite people in the universe. Long may you run. Happy 25th. Much love,
Who would have thought that Mister Meatball's "meat"ball and chain would be none other than my good friend of 22 years? I have known her almost as long as she's been married to Mister Meathead (er, I mean Mister Meatball). This same woman and I have spent countless hours savoring tapas, cuttlefish, absinthe, eye drops and lens cleaner. (Don't ask.) Happy 25th anniversary. Wishing you both nothing but good things for the next 50. Hugs and kisses.—Mary Ann
We rode all day across the coolest (and hottest) part of Texas, rafted the mighty Rio Grande though its deepest canyons and climbed the highest peaks in the southwest (TX) with you guys. Still, you were the best part of the trip. We might-otta try that again sometime. 'Till then, Happy Trails and best wishes to you on your anniversary. Happy, birthday, too, Mrs. M!
—Jeff and Marla
Happy Anniversary guys. I'm glad that Mister M has finally introduced the world to the Mrs. Though I really think of Mrs. more as a slice of pate'! Or a platter of delicious homemade potato salad. Or manchego cheese and spicy peanuts. Or an assortment of horrifying and inedible things in Chinese restaurants. Or...well, it is a long list!
I guess that is because while you, Mrs., have been busy being married to fabulous Mister, I have been busy enjoying your friendship. And it has been and continues to be a wonderful friendship. For the blogosphere, Mrs. and I speak every Thursday at 5:30 a.m. (6:00 a.m. during the summer) MY TIME -- which shows you that a conversation with her is not to be missed. Some of my vivid Mrs. memories: My first day at Bill Communications, when you and Mr. were kindly showing me the ropes and thinking, "will she still be here in a month?" And dining with Mrs. in Gramercy Park as Mr. walked circles around Manhattan. And later, walking with dignity to our rented car in Barcelona, covered with seagull guano. And our couples vacations: flying in a broken plane over Encinada trying not to panic while Steve acted like nothing was happening. Sailing off Catalina and dining on a fabulous meal seasoned with fennel we had collected from the hills -- before I read that wild fennel is indistinguishable from hemlock. And our idyllic sailing trip on the Sea of Cortez before Spirit turned into the vomitorium from H--L, and we all ended up being tracked by the US health department. All I can say is that I hope your motorcycle trip with Mr. Meatball lives up to these high standards!
I miss you both.
XXOO and Happy Birthday too,—Alexa