the gourmet club

My parents and some of their friends were members of what they called the gourmet club. Once a month they would meet at one member-couple’s house, in order to indulge in a specially prepared “gourmet” meal, usually something they had not eaten before and something the host couple had not cooked before – or at least that is what I am thinking… meanwhile I am trying very hard, as I sit here writing this, to remember some example of the foods they ate, whether appetizer or soup or main course or dessert, but I cannot. It is simply perhaps due – my ignorance, that is – due to the fact that we children – my younger brother and I – were not invited to eat with the adults then. This was their club. This was special. We ate earlier.

The friends – in their forties and thirties or fifties of age – totaling usually six or eight, gathered sometime after six pm, roughly, on a weekend evening. I believe they were starting to arrive when we two kids were finishing our early supper (begun like around five), and we were now best advised to retire to our own rooms after properly greeting our parents’ guests. They would meanwhile have cocktails and hors d’oeuvres – such tidbits as we no longer hungered for, having been wisely fed before the “gourmet” guests arrived.

If I were really smart I could tell you their names.

Elsie and Kurt. Dean and John. Al and Dusty.

Echoes from the past.