A Boston evening arrives all too quickly in November – at least, the darkness of a Boston evening arrives too quickly. Where we might usually take a lovely, well-lit stroll to our dining destination in warm and still-sunny weather, was suddenly cloaked in the pitch-black of midnight, and it was only 6:30 PM as we left the condo.
I’d made reservations at Reunion – the name was fitting, and it was a BBQ joint in the former location of Masa, which Kira and I once adored. One day we’ll do a proper homemade Friendsgiving meal – this was not that day. Kira doesn’t cook, and I couldn’t be bothered. A whole turkey for two people also felt a little excessive, I don’t care if it is traditionally a feast. I’ll have enough culinary work cut out for me when I have to bring the yams and tres leches cake to our family gathering.
On this night, it was a Friendsgiving meal in the South End, so cue the food music of ‘The Main Ingredient’ by Shirley Horn, and peel me a grape!
Comfort food is ideal for a Friendsgiving night out, and Reunion served up a decent collection of pulled pork, tender brisket, mac and cheese, collard greens, and some margarita mocktails. Of course the food wasn’t the focus of this weekend, and we slipped back into the past, into the early days of working at John Hancock together. Kira had started seeing the man she would marry, and I had just begun dating the man with whom I would move to Chicago, and we were both too young to do anything but flounder our way through all of it. Not that they were bad in any way, but they were doomed, and we didn’t see it then.
All these years later, we could look back without hurt, honor our pasts and our history, and find gratitude that all involved parties were still doing the best we could do.
A meal of thanks and a toast to that.
