- Date: Tuesday, August 1, 2006 - 8pm
- Location: Cambridge, MA
- Kitchen: Peter's Apartment
- Fellow Chefs: Ana, Peter, and Craig
- Recipe Rating: B
Peter and I picked this recipe because he had all the necessary equipment and catfish sounded appealing. It was pretty good. Ana thought it was too spicy, although that wasn't the fault of the recipe really. The recipe called for sweet paprika, but the only paprika Peter had was some hot paprika that he brought back from Hungary so I think that contributed more spiciness than the recipe intended. The spice rub gave the fish a nice flavor though, and it blackened nicely in the pan. My only real complaint is that there wasn't really anything interesting about this dish. It tasted like a typical blackened catfish dish that you can find all over. I liked eating it, but I would never bother to make it again.
After 4 years at MIT, Francesca is moving back to Italy on Monday, so tonight we went out to dinner to celebrate her graduation and say goodbye. It was fun, but sad. I never know the right thing to say when someone that I care about moves thousands of miles away. I never want to acknowledge that distance affects friendships, that time apart causes people to drift, but I always think those things. So instead of saying anything about the leaving, I try to ignore it. I try to avoid sentimental goodbyes. Perhaps this makes me seem heartless. I don't think that's it though. I think I'm just never ready for people to leave when they do. I hate big changes. I particularly hate waking up one day and finding that someone I care about isn't around any more. The constant leaving is part of being a young academic though. Everyone moves around, with very little control over where they go.
Francesca is such a great friend, and has such a great spirit about her. I have so many fanastic memories: we shared an office at MIT for years, we lived together one May in Paris, and we have spent many, many hours talking over lunch, or dinner, or coffee... Here's a dark, but really cute, picture of Francesca at dinner.