Simple Living with Wanda Urbanska

Wanda's Diary Entries

Sunday, November 6, 2005

Mother took me out to dinner on Friday night. It was girls’ night out. Frank was driving to Connecticut to give a presentation as a distinguished alumnus at his alma mater, Wesleyan University, and Henry was staying with his beloved babysitter, Edith McPeak, who now has a new apartment in Mount Airy. For weeks, Mother and I had been looking for a time that was special and ours alone. So in the pitch dark of the autumn night, we drove out to Shelton Vineyards, just outside of Dobson, NC. The Vineyard has recently added a new restaurant called Harvest Grill. It features an outdoor fireplace and gas heaters—warm enough to persuade Mother and me to want to dine outdoors.

The menu was small (only three entrees offered and none vegetarian). Mother and I both selected the pork chop over a bed of mashed sweet potatoes, and were we in for a treat! The atmosphere was delightful, with chef Lindsey coming out to greet all diners between courses. It was slow food—leisurely food—at its finest. In addition to the pork chops and sweet potatoes, our server brought out luscious vegetables served in bowls, family-style: spaghetti squash, beets, collard greens, green beans, and apple and cranberry compote. Mother commented that what was extraordinary about the experience was the wonderful vegetables, grown just beyond the patio—fresh and flavorful. Many high-end restaurants get the main course right, and possibly bread and salad, but you almost never a feted with fresh, flavorful vegetables.

It was a celebration dinner. A celebration of nothing in particular but of life and our enduring mother-daughter bond. Mother reminisced about the old times and her grandmother and namesake, Marie Meyer Olesen, who came over from Denmark at age 15 and worked for a while as a servant, then at a factory before marrying a fellow Dane in her late 20s, and birthing three children. My Danish maternal great-grandparents lived in Salem, Massachusetts. Marie Meyer Olesen’s oldest child, my grandfather Charles Olesen, though a brilliant man who attended MIT as a teenager, always carried with him an immigrant’s humility. When my mother was girl, she said that when her father thought she was putting on airs, he’d say: “Who do you think you are? You’re only a jump from the old country.”

It was a fascinating evening, full of delight and surprise. Don’t delay: Make time for a special meal soon with someone you love. Then put on your listening cap and set aside your watch. You are sure to learn something important.