At Salt Water Farm
Remember that epic party you can’t stop talking about? For years, I’ve been living on the fumes of a nineties late-night thing where I knew no one but somehow found myself pressed against the mirrored walls of a downtown New York apartment where a parrot held reign at the bar, opera music blasted from the bedroom, and the host and his publicist tangoed bare chested until dawn. As far as I know, there was no food.
Maybe it’s a post-pandemic shift of mindset, or just the passing of years — I no longer need or want to be awed by a magician in roller skates. But I’m still looking for magic. This weekend, I again found myself in a room full of strangers. Again our hosts danced, but this time there was food. There was also something else in the air. That’s the magic I am looking for when I host family and friends. “What’s the recipe?” I asked my host Annemarie Ahearn and her husband Nathan Perkins. Annemarie is the founder of Salt Water Farm, a cooking school in Lincolnville, Maine. From Annemarie, I’ve learned a lot about cooking. But now I want to know more. I want to know about feeding people, gathering them together. Here’s what Annemarie told me.
First, whatever the season, Annemarie sets the tone by bringing the outside inside, celebrating the season with things that are growing in her yard, whether wild or cultivated — leaves and weeds, roots and branches. Right now, I have armfuls of dried hydrangeas at hand. Second, candles are a key element at all of Annemarie’s events. "They make everyone look sexier” she told me, and who wouldn’t want that? Surprisingly, she also recommends that you crowd the table a bit. “Too much room between seats makes everyone feel like strangers.” This, I think, is the heart of Annemarie’s secret. She makes strangers feel like friends. She always lets the guests help. "Let them pour water, set up the bar, pick herbs, count napkins,” she told me. "Involve them in the process of entertaining. This helps tremendously in breaking the ice.” And always plan an activity. It could be something easy like going around the room and answering a funny question like “who’s your celebrity crush” or starting a dance party in the living room or reading a poem together. Annemarie likes to throw something in the mix that makes everyone a little uncomfortable for a moment, but ultimately brings the group closer together. These are the parties people remember. Finally, Annemarie shared this advice. "Imagine that it’s the next day and you’re looking back at the party you just threw. How do you want to remember the evening? "Wear something you feel good in, be playful and generous, Relax even if it’s not your nature.”
Remembering now another party. Annemarie and her friend Matthieu host eight strangers for dinner. We are two friends from Boothbay, a mother and daughter from Ohio, two sisters with a zest for travel, and two regular cooking students at Salt Water Farm. We approach each other with interest but with reserve, not knowing what to expect. Looking back, it's vintage Annemarie. Under the guise of learning to flambé shrimp, we relax with each other. A country cobbler comes together — some of us peeling apples, some of us eating them straight from the peel, others just sitting companionably with a cup of tea. I’m reminded of being with my mother in the kitchen. On this occasion, Annemarie brought her husband and daughter. Matthieu’s mother has prepared a simple cassoulet, and a green salad tossed in local olive oil and lemon juice. His father and sister arrive hungry. (Did I mention the language barrier? They only speak French.). A bottle of champagne is passed. Conversation opens up. A birthday is celebrated, complete with a crown made of paper napkins. Two of us discover that we are connected by grief and that in itself is a tiny gift of intimacy. The cheese course comes out. (Of course, cheese is essential.). Plans are made for meeting the next morning for a hike. It gets impossibly late. Finally, the music comes on as we wash and dry the dishes one by one and put them away. Epic.
Prawns Flambé
Melt a little butter in a cast iron pan. Sauté a clove of minced garlic. Turn heat to high, add shrimp and toss until they turn pink. Add a splash of brandy. On a gas stove, tilt the pan until the flame catches. It will subside quickly. (If your stove is electric, you can light a match.) Season with salt and pepper. Eat warm from the pan.