Artichoke Dip and Grandma

Most of my experiences with my grandmother and food are either from when I was a kid or when she visited me in New Mexico. When Grandma came to Santa Fe, we devoured the culinary culture and even took a class at the Santa Fe School of Cooking on the plaza. We ate out for many lunches and dinners at famed Santa Fe restaurants.

Back in New York, my grandmother wakes up very early and so when she visited the Southwest, it was even two hours earlier because of the time change. Every morning, she was up and ready to go when the sun came up. If I slept in, I could find her on my patio checking out the garden and the hummingbirds. If the weather did not permit her being outside, she would sit and enjoy my many stacks of cookbooks and food magazines. When I woke up, she would have a few recipes picked out for us to purchase the ingredients for and cook later. We not only ate out everyday, but we also cooked even more food at home.

After eating New Mexican food for several days with lots of salsa, green chile and red chile, I decided that my Grandma's stomach could use a break. I made a reservation at a local Italian place called Pranzo. I had eaten there once or twice before, but I figured she would appreciate a familiar flavor. Pranzo has a great atmosphere with warm lighting and white bistro tablecloths. The waiters are very relaxed, yet professional and friendly. My grandmother was immediately satisfied. Our waitress brought us some bread and I ordered the artichoke dip.

When the artichoke dip arrived, Grandma kept inspecting it. I asked her what she was doing. She said, "This is so good, I'm trying to figure out what is in this so I can make it. Do you think I could make it?" I told her, it is probably just artichoke hearts, lemon juice, olive oil and Parmesan cheese with some bread crumbs on top.

We enjoyed a lovely meal with some wine after we ate all of the bread. I can't remember if we ordered dessert or if we just had another glass of wine. It was a terrific meal, just me and my Grandma with nowhere else to be. After dinner, we walked along the neighborhood looking in the closed shop windows to see if there was anywhere she would like to shop tomorrow. The next day, we picked up where we left off with the New Mexican cuisine but we were happy to have a break with Italian.

A few weeks after she left, I called her and asked her what she was doing. She said that she was making her artichoke dip for a family gathering of some sort. I said, "Oh, well I hope it comes out like Pranzo's." She said, "Oh it does! I've already made it once before!" As if to say, now she was the artichoke dip expert. I guess that dip made quite an impression on her. She must have gotten off the plane and ran to the grocery for artichokes!

I haven't gone to Pranzo since that trip my grandmother made. I think I would like to have that dip with her again, outside on the terrace in Santa Fe.