When my sister and her family were here for a few days prior to Ruhiyyih's wedding everyone hovered in the kitchen. This is Kendra, my nephew's wife, helping with preparations for lunch. We had to bring something for a potluck lunch at Annie's and a dinner potluck at Laurel's, so all of us got busy preparing a variety of dishes. I made soup, Rahmat stirred up an east-Indian curry, and George filled in as prep-cook, chopping onions and sharpening knives. It was a blurr of activity as all of us danced around each other attending to our projects.
We steamed up the kitchen with our broths, vegetables and curry, helping each other with sudden tasks like opening cans of beans and finding spices. Had I known ahead of time, I would have soaked our own black and white beans for Rahmat's curry. But, at the last minute I raided the pantry, and he was all set. 
I filled out my soup by adding these green beans, which I had canned just a month ago. My sister said my soup was good, but it was the strangest combination of corn chipotle, chorizo, previously frozen kale soup, and the green beans. It never fails to amaze me that when one is desperate to throw something together for a pot-luck, there is always a bit of this and that which comes to the rescue. 
Rahmat's curry was a hit. He said he makes this for himself throughout the week. He asked for spices, so I rumaged through my cupboard (George has his spices in a rack near the stove, mine are kept in a cupboard in the dark). I located some cumin, garam masala, tumeric, and a little paunch poran. This last spice should be roasted at the end of the cooking, so that all the seeds explode and the flavor is at its peak. It is unsettling when family come to visit. I want to cook so many things but ultimately find myself sitting and chatting and letting George do all the cooking. He is an exceptionally good cook - much better than I am. I enjoy experiments and exploring cultures, but he is best at the everyday fare, simple comfort foods.
I made crepes before my company arrived.
I've found that making them ahead of time is more efficient.
Once filled with cherries and cream cheese, a little ricotta and powdered sugar, breakfast is ready in half the time. 
While my sister and her daughter were here I showed them how to make farmer's cheese, which can be used as a type of chunky, cream or powdered cheese depending on how you handle it. We also made malloraddus, the Sardinian pasta which is rolled on a bamboo mat to create the lines. In Sardinia a malloraddus board is used, with little grooves, but one can make their own using a simple bamboo mat. I found several more of these at the Goodwill, and we made the grooved container for my sister.I served bucatini rigati with shredded smoked salmon while they were here. This southern Italian spaghetti has a tiny hole throughout, like a straw, making the spaghetti larger and chewier. A similar type of pasta is made in Sardinia. The long strands are rolled out, then cut into one inch segments.
A wire is then pressed onto the top of the segment and the sides are collected and rolled up over the top. The pasta then slides off the wire - I used a coat hanger wire, but even a thin bamboo skewer will work fine. It is a time-consuming process, but very simple, and I listened to Eckhart Tolle's "Stillness Speaks" while I carefully made my pasta and set them to dry on a soft towel. The empty mind, free of thought or feeling, which he describes as an exquisite state of being, is surely fostered by the meticulous process of making one's own pasta on a quiet winter afternoon. The enthusiasm and chatter of our guests in the kitchen was gone, and I felt a wistfulness at just how empty a kitchen can feel when the celebration is over! It is surely a grace, when little pastas settling in a dish can bring me back to life!
I let the pasta dry out for only a day, then I made a tasty meal - bucatini pasta with sauce made from vegetables from the garden. It was so good - vegetables grown in my garden, home-canned pasta sauce and farmer's cheese.
