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by Ellen Mandeville
9/96
I am truly becoming a Mandeville. This change is more than marrying my love, Todd Mandeville, two weeks ago. It goes deeper than signing my maiden name for the last time on the marriage certificate. It is a fundamental shift in a long-held belief. Not the kind of belief that you might actually tell other people about. I mean the kind we act on everyday. A belief that is so deep rooted we might not even realize its existence.
I love food and I love going out to eat. I remember experiences like that perfect latte and brownie on a hot afternoon at Espresso Royale Caffe in Santa Cruz, California. I ordered the same time and again, but, like a junkie hankering back to that first high, it was never again quite as wonderful. I've been known to plan my day around a trip to that cute little café.
Luckily, I do know how to feed myself and my love at home. Over the past several years, my kitchen talents have expanded. I bought new cookbooks and what appeared on the table became a more eclectic, vegetarian, lower-fat fare. I found food co-ops where I could buy staples and spices in bulk (25 cents for a baggy of mustard seed? Cool.), which also had a larger and fresher variety in the produce section. And while I enjoy cooking, I always liked to go into town - to go out to eat. Please?
It's so hard to break old habits, old beliefs. Even in the face of evidence that the old ways aren't really so enjoyable and certainly aren't economical. Several years ago, Todd and I were on vacation in Hawaii with Todd's parents, Buzz and Luanne. We were staying in the home of a friend, typically buying lunch out while site-seeing and then cooking dinner at home. Breakfast always included the wonderful experience of fresh papaya with lime juice sitting in the backyard overlooking the Pacific Ocean. We saw whales, dolphin and outriggers from our outside dining room. Dinner was typically sitting in this same incredible location eating fresh fish from the grill, Caesar salad with homemade dressing, yummy veggies, perhaps a dessert... Pretty good living. Well, one night on the way home Luanne asked if we wanted to cook dinner or go out. Guess who wanted to go out to eat? Everyone else wanted to cook at home. I was overruled and wasn't happy about it. Todd tried to convince me what a good idea it was to cook dinner in an attempt to get me to be happy and stop making people feel uncomfortable. We had a delicious marinated chicken as I recall. Much fun and good conversation was had while preparing the meal in our friend's well appointed kitchen. I must say I'm pretty sure I rather enjoyed myself, the preparation, and the meal that night. Todd, in a very kind manner, later mentioned that he thought we had had a better meal at home that we would have had going out. And while I had to agree with him, I realize now that it still didn't alter my belief that eating out in town was the superior way to enjoy an evening with friends.
Truth be told, Todd and I really don't eat out too much. So I always look forward to the times that we do. Another truth be told, over the last several months I've really started to notice how much more food costs at restaurants compared to preparing it ourselves at home. And how it can be difficult to find food prepared just the way you want it. And how you have to wait for a table and then deal with the wait staff - usually waiting for them. And you never do know who's going to be in the dining room with you. It took me a while to hear these bells going off in the back of my mind.
In spite of a few tightly held, irrational beliefs, Todd chose to marry me anyway. We had a wonderful wedding, the catered meal was the best I've ever had at a reception, and the party was a blast. The setting was perfect. We found a woman who has renovated an old farm house keeping all of its country charm and runs it as a wedding/reception facility in the summer months. She does the catering and flowers herself and had excellent recommendations for such things as a cake baker who cooks from scratch, a baroque trio for the wedding music, a DJ who was a charmer and a photographer who could capture the moment. It felt like we had our wedding and reception on the lawn of a favorite relative's home. A real home - quite superior to any of the other facilities we looked at.
The majority of our honeymoon was spent on our sailboat on the Columbia River and on a chartered trawler in the San Juan Islands of Washington and Gulf Islands of British Columbia. Boats are terrific. Travel to places that cars, planes and trains can't get to. Travel while taking your home with you. And no need to pitch a tent. We planned our meals, provisioned the boat, unplugged the phone, and were off to peace and quiet and time alone.
We made Todd's Killer Oatmeal, some wonderful vegetable stews, split pea soup, Ellen's Potato Mush, blackberry cobbler (with wild blackberries), and old fashioned banana pudding with vanilla wafers. We ate in places like Spencer Spit, Tod Inlet, and Wallace Island where there were no cars, planes or trains to be seen or heard. We also visited Roche Harbor and paid $12 for one coffee (for me), and one soup and salad that we split. Well, we did have a nice view of the harbor... We decided to splurge and have high tea at the Butchart Gardens. The food was rather nice, but seeing the Twinings English Breakfast tea bags hanging out of the tea pot at $14 per person was a bit tacky. The glamour of dining out was beginning to wear a bit thin.
Our last two nights we spent happily anchored at Wallace Island. A four mile long bit of beautiful land in the Gulf Islands of British Columbia, which is now all a marine park except for eleven acres of private property. We drank tea and ate our leftover vegetable stew, which is better the second day, then went for a hike. Passed the only two vehicles on the island: a rusty, dilapidated Willys truck and an equally well running tractor - cars as we like them. Made spaghetti the second night, finished some yummy chocolates with our tea and went for another hike, this time to Chivers Point. Here the water lapped against the glacier scarred rocks and the trees silhouetted themselves against the sky. Looking out at several other islands in the gray of fading day, buoy lights were the only sign of man's presence. We stayed longer than we should have for we didn't have a flashlight and had to find our way home feeling tree roots by Braille to another quiet night in our snug boat.
We didn't want to leave, but decided that the charter company probably wanted their boat back. After a long push back to Anacortes, refueling, putting water in the tanks, cleaning the boat, packing up the car, and having a cocktail with friends, it was time for dinner. With no cooking facilities, guess what we decided to do? That's right - eat out. Our friends recommended a cute town nearby and we were off. The only two places open besides the raucous tavern (no thanks), were a bit on the spendy side. Well, we were on our honeymoon after all and the food does smell good... How would you like your fat with your seafood? Deep fried, lightly fried, or a rich cream sauce? Hmmm. Hope you like listening to the conversation of people you don't know and a mother disciplining her daughter along with the hubbub of cutlery and crockery. After many a quiet anchorage, it was all a bit much. I looked at Todd and said, "You're truly making me into a Mandeville." "How's that?" he wondered. "I'd rather be eating rice and beans out of a box on Wallace Island." We looked at each other with understanding and laughed. For even if were hitting the bottom of the cupboard, the people and location are sure to be outstanding when you're with the Mandevilles. If you ever see our sailboat anchored out, stop by for a bite to eat. The view and company are sure to be first rate and the food's not too shabby.
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