Michael's Corner

On a Sunday in late February, while sipping our morning coffee, Kathy turned to me and said, “How about throwing me a birthday party? It’ll be the last big bash in our house.” (We’re on a two-year downsizing plan.) I gave one of those “I’ll consider it, Hmms” and then replied, “Sure. Why not,” and right away went to work putting together a menu. Meanwhile, Kathy worked on an invitation list.

It’s said that as we age, our circle of friends shrinks. Kathy is an outlier; her circle’s machinations mimic an obscure eastern enclave yet to implement birth control. She handed me a list that included old co-workers who had become close friends, retired officers from her squadron at McGuire Air Force Base, family, neighborhood friends, and others, including the six people she had just met the day before. You see, Kathy came up from Sumter, South Carolina, a girl in her mid-twenties, not knowing a soul, and went to work building an ever-increasing network. On the Sunday morning in question, the soon-to-turn-70-year-old handed me an invitation list of no fewer than 80 people. Already, I had to adjust my menu. But then I sighed and thought, out of the 80, maybe 60 will show. I sent the invitations via Punchbowl. Please RSVP by 04/05/26, I had requested.

Of the 80 invitees, 77 came. They came from Virginia, Maryland, Delaware, Philadelphia, Boston, and Chicago, converging on my New Jersey home on 04/19 to sip a variety of wines and devour two trays of lasagna, two trays of sausage scallopini, a tray of string beans, another of scallops risotto, a crock of pulled pork, and another of Hungarian Goulash. The desserts were ambrosia, butter cake, key lime pie (Kathy’s favorite), and a massive sheet cake, featuring an image in each corner: Kathy at sixteen, at thirty in her air force uniform, at forty holding our son, at sixty holding our Maltese, and the message Beautiful at Every Age.

The event was a lot of work; I came dangerously close to biting off more than I could chew. But then there came a moment that made all the coordinating and preparations worthwhile: A young girl (I placed her at age five) whom Kathy had recently befriended while walking our dog arrived and handed Kathy a tiny bouquet of handmade flowers. She was so proud to hand Kathy those well-crafted flowers, and Kathy’s graciousness matched the young girl’s pride. It was a scene that could melt any heart.

But now for the reason for this post: Since the party, I’ve been inundated with emails, texts, and phone calls clamoring for the scallops risotto recipe. And without any further ado:

1 medium-sized head of cauliflower – two bags of wild-caught Patagonian Scallops (the scallops don’t necessarily have to be from Patagonia. I bought the first choice I saw on Amazon Fresh Cart.) – Risotto – chicken broth – butter – salt – pepper – garlic powder – parmesan – Italian spices.

Steam cauliflower until soft enough to crumble into rice-sized pieces, then season with butter, salt, pepper, and parmesan. Preheat the oven to 350 and bake the scallops for 10 minutes. Drain excess water, then season with butter, salt, and garlic powder, and combine with the cauliflower. And now comes the labor: layer approximately 80 ounces of chicken broth to get a creamy risotto. Sprinkle with your favorite Italian seasoning, combine with cauliflower and scallops, and bake at 350° for 20 minutes.

Bon Appitit!