Back in the eighties I was in a book club for a hot minute. It didn’t stick. There were too many rules. First, we were expected to read a book — a major obstacle. And, really, weren’t we just there for the food? Things fell apart pretty quickly. 

But on a recent Wednesday, I put a toe back in the water as a guest of the Waterville Area Newcomers Gourmet Group. The premise seemed promising. This group is unapologetically all about eating and eating well. No pretext of reading a book — the food is the narrative on the third Wednesday of every month, when this group gets together for lunch hosted by one of their own.

I jumped in with both feet. But after the niceties of introductions were in the bag, I started to think I was in too deep. My hands were clammy as I was asked to keep in mind “just a few rules.” Please God, don’t make us read a book.  

As it turns out, the rules are pretty great! The Gourmet Group is for, well, gourmets. It is not a potluck.  Don’t show up with a bag of Oreos from Hannaford. The host makes the entree — something special, from scratch, inspired by travels or Bon Appetit or new entertaining trends. Others tackle a different course, each calling on her inner Julia Child.  

On the day of my visit, Sandy’s menu paid tribute to her Southern roots. The table was set with pretty dishes borrowed from Caroline, yellow Jessamine in small vases at each place. Every course was a little treasure. Cucumber sandwiches. Pimento cheese and crackers. Crunchy romaine and strawberry salad.  She Crab soup with hush puppies and honey butter. Shrimp and grits. Braised greens. Italian cream cake with nutty cream cheese frosting. Spiked iced teas.  

It’s no wonder there is a waiting list to join the Gourmet Group. I’m told the membership filled immediately when the group formed eight years ago, and people have been clamoring to get in ever since. Word must be out about the hush puppies. 

The interesting thing is this. Long after we had finished off lunch, the party was going strong. Despite the group’s insistence that this is about the food, there’s obviously more to it than the menu suggests. This group is really nurtured by friendship. 

I asked Debby, the newest member, what it is like to infiltrate a close-knit community of old timers, some of whom have been part of the group since its inception. She told me that she felt right at home “from the get-go.” “I can’t think of a better way to make friends than over great food and wine. The ladies are fun, imaginative, and most welcoming.” 

Having myself been acquainted with these women for a little under an hour, I totally understood. I was quickly getting over my angst about the idea that a group like this would have rules and instead beginning to appreciate that there was much to learn.  

I began to scheme, desperate to become a part of this group every month.  But it was not to be. In the words of my eighth grade home economics teacher: “There are reasons for the rules.” This was a one-time invitation, apparently. So, I tucked away a few lessons like treasured leftovers and reminders of the women who make these get togethers a full course meal.  

If you’re lucky, you can form a gourmet group with your own kindred spirits, much like those forgotten souls on the Newcomers wait list who finally couldn’t take it anymore and are now meeting happily under the “Bread and Roses” moniker. 

Here are a few lessons for newcomers

Jean and Ann.  “Sometimes You Have to Get Bossy.  The Leader Gets to Delegate.” The matriarch of the Gourmet Group, Jean dreamed up the idea of a friendship group “for true foodies who love to cook.” The first person she enlisted was Ann. Everyone knows Ann loves to start something new and is always willing to pitch in. Now 89, Jean is teaching Ann the ropes. Essentially — “All I do is boss you around.” Ann is working on honing that skill, but in the meantime, she knows how to research, track and test ideas to get them just right. They make a great team.  

Jane (in remembrance).  “Life is Short — Always Start with a Toast to Friendship.” This lesson emerges from tragedy. When Jane died suddenly last year, the women helped each other through a really difficult time. Jane was beloved by all. Since her death, every luncheon begins with a toast to Jane. It’s a testament to friendship. (Never mind that there was no wine at the reception after Jane’s funeral.  Everyone agrees that Jane would have wanted there to be wine.)  

Caroline. “Dress Well Even When You Don’t Feel Well” aka “Beautiful Garnishes.” I’ve been told that Caroline is under the weather, but she is not one to miss these lunches.  I’m expecting Caroline to show up in pajamas, but no, she joins by Zoom, looking fabulous. Apparently, Caroline is always dressed to perfection and so are her cocktails, accessorized with dried fruit or other garnishes. We bond over our shared love of Limoncello.  

Patti. “Be the Exception, Not the Rule.” Here’s the thing about Patti. She jumped the line! Apparently, rules were made to be broken where Patti is involved. Invited as a guest to one lunch long ago, she made an impression and that was it. “She’s too much fun,” the women tell me. “She took to it.”  The rules tightened up after that — it was only fair to those still waiting in line.  

Gloria. “Don’t Let the Grass Grow Under Your Feet.” Gloria knew she should wait to join the group until she retired, but it was hard to be patient. She admits to occasionally sneaking out of work to make it in time for hors d’oeuvres, especially if pimento cheese and cucumber sandwiches were on the menu.  

Debby. “A Cup of Vermouth Goes a Long Way.”  Debby learned this the hard way. When her recipe for barbecue sauce called for a cup of vermouth, she realized too late that it’s better not to sample so liberally. This one time, Debby ended up “pie-eyed” while cooking for the group.  

Susan. “Necessity is the Mother of Invention.” That’s just the kind of no-nonsense advice you might expect from a retired nurse. Susan jumped into action during the pandemic to make sure that the group continued meeting, while adhering to the strictest health protocols. When it was her turn to host, Susan used rocks to measure out chairs exactly six feet apart around a majestic tree in the yard and they carried on. The group met on lake shores and around fire pits during those fraught months. Susan stayed vigilant, making sure everyone wore gloves when in contact with the food or each other.  

Carole. “Elevate it to an Art Form.” A talented potter, Carole brings her artist’s eye to every endeavor.  If there’s a soup course on the menu, the bowls and mugs in which it is served were probably created by Carole.  

Connie. “Tell It Like It Is.” Connie is a straight shooter. She can always be counted on to be direct. It keeps the group grounded. “She’s had five children,” the women tell me. “She knows what to do with them.” Frankly, the group is a bit adrift when Connie is absent — they tend to get out of line.  

Stephanie. “Cooking is a Safer Sport than Skiing. (But it’s always fun where there is risk involved.)”  The cane is a dead giveaway. If it isn’t one thing it’s another with Stephanie — a ski accident, shoulder surgery. But Stephanie is going to make it to every gathering “come hell or high water.”  

Sandy. “Bring a Dude Along.” You might think I’m referring to the group’s affinity for collectively caring for the husbands — there’s a bit of a sister-wives mentality to pitching in to make sure these men are well fed, entertained, and occasionally shuttled to appointments. But Sandy took the idea to the extreme on the women’s summer trip to Monhegan. In her suitcase, along with sensible hiking boots, good reading, and probably some pimento cheese, Sandy had the foresight to pack a blow-up doll. I am picturing the group merrily chatting away on the ferry as it crosses the ocean, Sandy hanging on tightly to the Dude’s ankle as he bobs madly in the wind. But no, that’s not the way it was. The Dude stayed discreetly out of sight until the games began on the porch of the Monhegan House, at which point he became everyone’s favorite partner for charades. Sadly, he lost air as the games wore on and by the end of the second day, he had given out completely.  

Note to Self. “Eat Like There’s No Tomorrow (Not to Mention Tonight).” It’s getting late but no one seems to be in a hurry to leave. Then the group lets this slip. In just a few hours, they must be back for “Dinner Group,” not to be confused with the “Dinner with Friends” group. It seems that the idea has caught on that eating together is something worth doing, even several times a day on occasion.