For me, 2023 was a very eventful year. Well, technically every year is eventful in that it is full of events. You cannot not have an eventful year, even if you would like one. So let me more accurately say that 2023 has been a year in which some things that had been happening in more or less the same way for quite a while were replaced by different things.
To wit, briefly: My husband lost one job and found another. My daughter left home for college. After three years of avoiding COVID-19, we got it at a most inopportune time. I tried a new thing in my column: interviewing readers about their recipes. Most significantly of all, we bought an espresso maker.
It is not a misrepresentation to say that the espresso maker has changed our lives. As I write this, I am slurping down a cappuccino with the fluffiest crown of froth you’ve ever seen. And I made it myself, in my very own kitchen. It’s nothing less than extraordinary that I can now have this treat whenever I want (although more than one coffee a day makes me jittery as a jumping bean).
My husband and I found the espresso machine for a deeply discounted price a couple of months ago when we dropped by Fred Meyer to pick up milk and bread. We gawped at each other with wondering eyes. “Can a thing so comparatively cheap work at all? Will it break down after the first espresso?” We decided to take a chance on love — love of good coffee, that is — and into the cart it went.
It’s not one of those metallic behemoths that take up acres of counterspace, with dozens of buttons and dials and digital read-outs. It occupies no more room than our old, four-cup drip coffeemaker. It makes espresso and steams milk, nothing else. The only three settings are “espresso,” “steam” and “off.” In short, it’s perfect. It’s a tiny little caffeination-delivery system, and I love it with my whole heart.
It’s a bit time-consuming to make a cappuccino. I won’t bore you with the tedious details, but there are multiple steps. I worried that I’d find the whole rigmarole annoying and might long for the return of our drip coffeemaker, but I was wrong. I love the daily ritual. I get excited about the next day’s cappuccino the night before. I tune out of the riveting episode of “The Crown” that we’re watching and instead daydream about powerfully strong coffee blended with hot, frothy milk.
I began this year with a pledge to “look for the sausage under the table” — that is, to look for good things, even when my circumstances seem swathed in shadow, just like a dog waits under the table for someone to slip him a bite of food. The dog is fully confident that something delicious will come to him if he just stays alert.
I had a hard time taking my own advice, but I kept repeating to myself, “Look for the sausage. Look for the sausage.” While I fully acknowledge that sometimes the sausage never materializes — sometimes circumstances are 100 percent bad — the practice of searching for and remembering goodness is the only way to muddle through life’s nasty surprises.
And now I will expose my utter nerdiness. In the film “The Return of the King” (based on J.R.R. Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings” novel), protagonists Sam and Frodo are stumbling up the jagged slopes of Mount Doom to destroy the evil ring, a task they have no hope of surviving. In this bleak, forlorn landscape with not a drop of beauty, Sam suddenly starts talking about springtime, blooming orchards, nesting birds, fields of barley and fresh strawberries with cream.
“Do you remember the taste of strawberries?” Sam asks.
Frodo cannot, but Sam can. The memory gives Sam the strength not only to keep climbing, but also to carry his exhausted companion the rest of the way. And guess what? They do survive, thanks to the intervention of some giant eagles. (You saw that coming, didn’t you?)
I may not have been rescued by giant eagles (though I remain open to the possibility), but I did find some good things in my husband’s unemployment. It was a joy to have him at home every day. We could have spontaneous conversations, go for walks and work in the garden together. Losing his old, terrible job freed him up for the new, wonderful one he has now.
As for our empty nest, I’ve relished the return of the easy couplehood that my husband and I shared before our daughter was born. We’re enjoying the predictable routines we’ve established without having to consider a third opinion.
Last but certainly not least, this column has been immeasurably enriched by readers’ recipes. I treasure my conversations with subscribers who’ve submitted recipes. I’ve gotten a kick out of making someone else’s favorite foods.
I’m grateful for unexpected boons, like the super-cheap espresso machine that makes the most delicious coffee I’ve had outside a coffee shop. Each sip reminds me that life is full of unpredictable delights. That makes me think of another beloved tale that also features a wizard, who said, “Happiness can be found in the darkest of times if one only remembers to turn on the light.” Perhaps I should amend that to say, “… if one only remembers to look for the sausage and turn on the espresso machine.” (Then again, perhaps that’s why I’m not a wizard.)
