Mondays with Mike: Seems like old times

Sunday night we had a dinner party. Let’s say that again: Sunday night we had a dinner party!

My mom’s recipe.

It wasn’t the very first time we’ve had people over since Covid has quieted—but it was the most pre-covid normal. This time we weren’t wary and self-conscious—we were celebratory.

I did forget how exhausting it can be to cook a big meal and clean and all that. I also forgot how absolutely soul-satisfying it is to sit down and talk, laugh a lot, and eat a great meal together.

And, yes, it was a great meal. My mom, Esther Knezovich nee Latini, used to make manicotti for special occasions. And since Sunday was a very special occasion, I made it.

I worked off a hand-printed recipe written on brittle, stained, lined notebook paper. I’ve only made it a few times myself and it’s been years since I did. That’s partly because it’s so ambitious.

This manicotti—the kind I grew up with (like these)—rolls a cheese and spinach mixture inside of homemade crepes, not pasta. The result is a delicious filling in a delicate and light wrap. Topped with Bolognese sauce, it is to die for.

My crepe-making skills have rusted. Let’s just say that some of them came out sort of irregularly shaped. But that didn’t matter. With a green salad and Beth’s homemade bread and wine and a chocolate tart from a culinary friend for dessert and neighbors to share it all, it was divine.

This week two years ago, Illinois and Chicago shut down for what we thought would be a few weeks. Two days after that, I voted in a primary election. Two hours after that, I got the worst chills I’ve ever had, and readers know the rest of the story.

It’s not over because it’s never over until the fat lady sings and the dumbasses get vaccinated.

But it’s feeling pretty good.