Re: Mr. Cornish’s Welcome Column about cooking and food a few days back. I have to share a story about Rick’s cooking. This story is unembellished, pared down to actual happenings between Mr. Cornish and your Welcome Column writer.. And this is EXACTLY why I never embellish and always tell …Well ,you get the picture.
Several years ago Mr. Cornish was living in a 12,000 square foot mansion nestled atop Alum Rock Ave. hovering over a PGA rated Golf Course in San Jose. This huge dwelling Rick dubbed his “Little fixer upper.” It had a large brick enclosed exquisite backyard that was ideal for barbecues and holding bluegrass jams.There were times though when the bluegrass gods were not smiling favorably on Rick and no jams were scheduled.On one of these weekends Lynn was out of town visiting friends, and Rick was beside himself. Those who know the man understand he prefers company to being alone. The man loves to interact with people. Even me.
This particular week-end Rick called me up and invited me down for a special T-Bone steak dinner with all the trimmings. It wasn’t often it was just the two of us alone together unlike the days of our sometimes misspent youth when we were inseparable. This week-end would give us a chance to just be casual and chat. There would be a lot of memories to reflect upon.
Rick and I were toddlers together,and spent our youth and teen years going to school together. At the ripe age of 5 we began our schooling in Mrs. Brown’s Kindergarten class at Highland School, moved on to Bret Harte Junior High,shared a few classes at Hayward High School, and then were in a couple of evening classes together at Chabot Junior College. After junior college Rick moved to San Jose to attend San Jose State while I chose to stay in Hayward and attend Cal State Hayward.
On a balmy December Saturday afternoon I made the drive from Turlock to Rick’s fortress off of Alum Rock Ave. in San Jose. I was met at the door by Rick and his 3 Labradors.As usual Rick wanted to run a couple of chores, make a stop at Costco,then go to his office, and finally end up at a Trader Joe’s type food “barn” where we would select the prized T Bones and pick up some vegetables etc for our dinner.
Having completed all the chores we made it back to the castle atop Alum Rock. We got inside, set the groceries down and Rick carefully laid the T-Bones on the counter top and then plugged in the bluegrass music. We grabbed a couple of beers and settled down in his backyard next to his Koi pond and chatted.
Rick heard some noise in the kitchen and we both hustled in to check it out. One of Rick’s Labs had dragged both of the T-Bones off the counter, had already devoured one completely and had just picked up the second one. Rick grabbed the Lab and the steak. He eyed the steak carefully and remarked, “No damage.” He gave his Lab a stern lecture about T-Bone robbing and while Rick was petting the thief behind his big ears Rick pulled out his wallet grabbed a twenty dollar bill and instructed me to go back down to the little market and select another T-Bone to replace the eaten one.
I made the trip to the market and back again in about twenty minutes. I proudly presented the T-Bone I had purchased to Rick, and gave him his $.50 in change. Rick told me to go back out to the patio while he prepared the steaks, the salad and all the fixins. My job was to listen to the music and keep his three Labs entertained.
(NOTE FROM THE EDITOR–Complete and utter flight of fancy. But very descriptive just the same. RC)
In a few minutes RIck came out proudly holding up the platter that held our T-Bones. Rick gently placed them on the grille and then went back inside to set the table and finish the salad. Finally it was dinner time. Rick grabbed the steaks from the grille (they smelled delicious) and we made our way into the house. We sat down, Rick handed me a plate with the aromatic grilled T-Bone nestled next to a freshly tossed green salad. Rick opened up a very nice Cabernet and we toasted to “Good friends.”
I grabbed my knife and fork and got ready to cut into the juicy T-Bone and then it dawned on me.I looked at Rick and noticed he hadn’t started eating his steak either. “Rick, I said, “You wouldn’t be such an ungracious host to serve me the T-Bone that had been dragged off the table by your Lab and gnawed for a second or two. Even you would NOT do that! Right!”
Rick just stared at me. I was looking for some hint, some indicator of the tyranny Rick was capable of imposing on me.Rick finally responded. “Brooks, do you think for one second I would do something so crass?”
Our eyes met and I knew what I had to do. I took my fork and stabbed his T-Bone picked it up and placed it on my plate. I then stuck the fork in my T-Bone and gently placed it on his plate. I quickly hacked off a piece of the T-Bone and smiled at Rick. “How could you do it Rick? You are still up to your little psychological games.”
Rick looked at his steak, and cut off a huge chunk, held it up for a second and then chewed on it for a good minute. He then washed it down with a healthy swallow of Cabernet. We finished our meal making small talk about the CBA and other pressing matters. When the last bite was eaten Rick got that gleam in his eyes and began his explanation. “Brooks, you are as predictable as taxes and death. I knew you would doubt my good character and harbor thoughts of me doing such evil things. Well I gave myself the steak my Lab had gnawed on and gave you the T-Bone you purchased. I KNEW you would make the switch. Now tell me. Did you notice anything really different about the T-Bone?”
I didn’t have an answer for him.I just knew that once again I had been one upped by Rick just like the time before and the time before that.”Brooks,” Rick said,” To show I have no hard feelings about you doubting me I have a 1/2 gallon of chocolate -cookie dough -malted rocky road ice cream with Hershey’s topping on the side. What do you say?” Rick knows that ice cream and chocolate are my weaknesses. Hershey’s topping is my kryptonite. I smiled and told Rick to give me a double dose of Hershey’s chocolate. Rick went in the kitchen and came back with a huge bowl of ice cream smothered in Hershey’s. All was forgiven.
I was about halfway through my chocolate ice cream when Rick went back into the kitchen and came back to the table holding a small brown paper bag and then set it down next to my bowl of ice cream. “A little something extra for my oldest and dearest friend,” he said. I put my spoon down wiped the puddles of chocolate from my lips and reached into the bag. I pulled out a singular king sized Ken-L- Ration doggie biscuit. I looked at Rick and he just smiled and then I actually heard him give a tiny “woof.”And for some reason I had the sudden urge to scratch behind my ear with my left foot.
Until Thanksgiving:
Read a book, hug a child, pet a dog, stroke a cat, eat a bar of chocolate.