Today is Sunday, August 31st. In addition to being an inestimably divine day (there is but one cloud the size of a cotton swab in the azure dome), it is the prelude to Monday, September 1st – Labour Day – a statutory holiday! And it is warm! Now, for those of you, dear Reader, who no longer subscribe to the latest edition of the magazine Métier, that is a peerless combination. It is an end-of-summer festival. In the distance I overheard the jarring caw of a crow. Minutes afterwards, sharply to the left of my line of sight upriver, another caw – whether repeated by itself or issued by another crow in its stead. No matter, the cacophonous harmony is to no avail today. This is the type of Labour Day weekend one hopes for!
As further luck would have it, last evening we received an invitation to dine today with my erstwhile physician. It may surprise you to learn, dear Reader, that the Doc is a superb chef! I have had the privilege to have known him since his inauguration in town over 30 years ago. His first surgery was in my office building; I have been to his wedding, I have seen his children mature and his grandchildren materialize. Throughout our sometimes boisterous – but never colourless – friendship I have sat on the side watching him skilfully prepare some of the most memorable meals I’ve savoured (that is, when early in our confederacy we were not seeking out the nearest sushi bar in the By Ward Market). Indeed when he initially deigned to cohabit with hoi polloi such as I in the local subdivision, I called upon him one evening to come across the park for dinner at my place. At the time – over 30 years ago as I say – he and I were “batching” it. Knowingly (as I now see from this orbital review) he arrived at the door with what I found to be a curious ensemble of devices and ingredients: a white ceramic bowl, a burner (complete with candle), a long, narrow fork, a bottle of olive oil, garlic, a can of anchovies and a baguette. His venture? Yes, you’ve got it, Bagna Càuda.
Bagna càuda (Piedmontese; lit. ‘hot dip‘ or ‘hot gravy‘), also spelled bagna caouda in Alpes-Maritimes, is a hot dish made with garlic, anchovies, red wine, and extra virgin olive oil, typical of Lower Piedmont, a geographical region of Piedmont, Italy, and Provence, France.
It is I know a small concession that I do not now recall what we had for dinner that evening – that is, other than the Bagna Càuda! I have never forgotten the delicacy. It remains a supreme delight to this day. There is nothing in my opinion that soothes the soul more unsurpassably than fine olive oil and well-baked bread; and, when that elixir is combined with the salt and fish of the anchovies, garlic and a bit of heat – well, I mean to say, roller coaster ride doesn’t begin to capture the thrill!
By coincidence while sitting here, composing this monologue, we received an email from my partner’s great-nephew, Sébastien. He, his companion and another couple reported being in a local café en route to a pastry shop. It was the work of a moment to reply enthusiastically to such a gripping account: I wanted to tell them life is short, youth is wonderful, you only live once – but instead, I just wrote, “Wow! What a crew! Have a marvellous time together on this ineffable day!” I suspect the intelligence derives from the Bagna Càuda!