The other day one of my co-workers was talking about her will.
I don't have one, mostly because I don't really have a lot to give away. I should find a good home for my shoe collection, but I don't know anyone else who can fit into my shoes.
I do think it's a good idea to have a living will, and I thought about having a living will party while the Terri Schiavo situation was getting so much publicity. No one I knew had a living will, and I thought having a party to make them would make the process a little bit less of a downer. I imagined we could all be each other's witnesses.
I have put more thought into my funeral than I have into my will. I think I would like to have it catered. Not a sit down formal dinner or anything, but some nice rustic Italian food. I would definitely like some tomato salads. Here is one of my favorites.
Sicilian Tomato Salad
1 cup olive oil
1 cup red wine vinegar
1 cup cold water
1-2 cups dry ricotta (ricotta salada)
fresh oregano, basil
salt, fresh ground pepper
Cut the tomatoes into wedges into a flat dish. Add oil, vinegar, water, oregano, and basil (2 to 1 oregano to basil), salt, pepper to taste. Garlic powder optional.
Sprinkle coarse grated ricotta salada throughout. Gently fold and mix, adjust ingredients to preference. When balance has been established, sprinkle hearty layer of ricotta over top, covering salad. Chill at least 1/2 an hour. Serve with warm, crusty Italian or French Bread.
That's a friend's old family recipe...here's my two cents: the garlic is important, I don’t view it as optional. And use the real stuff, not powder.
This salad is really soupy, that’s the point. Serve it in bowls and use the bread to soak things up. I think it tastes best if it’s been getting to know itself for at least 2 hours before serving it.
Anyway, thinking about tomato salads made me realize that if the ones at my funeral are going to be any good, I will need to die in the peak of tomato season.
I was telling some friends about this last night, joking about how when I get really old and my health is fading, I will grow my funeral tomatoes. My friends thought this was a great idea, that it ought to be a short story or on This American Life, and one of them said he would write it. I told him, no, that it was my idea and sick fantasy. If anyone is going to write about it, it should be me.
I thought that was the way things worked, that people get first dibs on their own ideas. If it's not the case, I need to get out of the habit of telling other people about the latest crazy thing rattling around in my head.
Labels: Bon Appetit, Projects