The Silver Palate (@Silver_Palate of silverpalate.com) just liked my tweet about my Orange Oatmeal and I almost had a heart attack I was so excited. They will never know, but they made my day, month and possibly year with that favorite. Their website carries on the legacy of Julee Rosso and Sheila Lukins and the beloved, stunning cookbooks born of their catering business in New York City in the early 80's. To this day I use their tried and true recipes and experiment with new ones all the time. They inspired me to be the most creative cook I could be.
When I moved to NYC for acting school in the 80's someone told me there was an opening at the Silver Palate, and that it was only a few blocks away from where I lived on the upper west side. I had been in awe of Julee, Sheila and their cookbook since it came out in 1982. They could do no wrong, and they made me look like a far better cook than I was when I followed their recipes. To this day, I still make my all time favorites like their Thanksgiving Potatoes several times a year. (There is actually half a batch in the freezer at this moment, as a test to see if it actually works to freeze them and bring them back to life in the oven weeks later...we shall see!)
I applied for the job, certain I wouldn't get it. Being anywhere near them was going to be worth the rejection. Shockingly, I passed the interview process and was asked to join them in the kitchen for 1/2 a day. What? A professional kitchen! No way!
I was actually so shell-shocked by the opportunity that the only thing I remember, other than how fun the kitchen chit-chat was over the course of the afternoon -- is being humiliated when someone lovingly showed me there was a better way to julienne a bell pepper. I am sure I turned as bright a red as that damn pepper. I'm also sure I didn't do anything right that day, but since they had no judgment of my mistakes it soon became clear that the "audition" was all about personalities, not skills. Thank God!
At the end of the shift, one of them -- yes I know it's unbelievably crazy that I don't remember which one - almost positive it was Sheila but they were both merged into one for me, possibly because when I was with them I had the experience of only seeing big balls of blinding light. So, one Ball of Light took me out to the front steps of the store front, sat me down and I expected her to sweetly say that I hadn't passed muster because I was such a moron and needed to be shown even the most basic skills. Instead she said they were delighted to offer me a full time job.
I burst into tears, not the pretty happy tears, the ugly cry tears. The Ball of Light didn't really know what to do with this reaction. She had been under the assumption that I would be ecstatic! I explained I hadn't known it was a full time gig, that I would be in acting school full time and couldn't do a full time job. She somehow got past my overreaction and asked me to think about it, pointing out -- as I already knew of course -- that it was the chance of a lifetime. She didn't do it in a self-aggrandizing way. She did it to honor me, a young thing just out of college, who loved to cook their recipes.
I did think about it overnight and knew which passion was winning this battle, but the walk over to the storefront was excruciating. I wanted to have my Silver Palate cake and eat it too. Whichever Ball of Light I spoke to was very lovely about my choice and I walked away wondering if I had made the right choice but knowing that I would have a long history with Silver Palate dishes, just not in their beautiful kitchen.
I just found out -- in my post-twitter-elation-googlefest-- that Sheila truly is a Ball of Light as far as I'm concerned. She died in 2009. I didn't even hear about it. I would have wanted to give her spirit a hug from afar when she passed. But I suppose I hug her every time I make one of her amazing recipes. She rocked my world, and she inspired me to make the dinner parties that fill my soul to this day.
One little tweet...and all this.
