a woman named kitty (darling) from hahvahd (darling) explained to me what 'expat' means (right), and was shocked that i had never been to dinner at jim's. while slurping a delicious hippified borscht, kitty and jesse and i chatted about cooking and eating, and writing.
there was a crazy scotsman in a tracksuit and mirrored shades, among other men who were definitely there to do some flirting. including a canadian "art buyer" who proposed marriage. i later overheard some other girls saying they had been proposed to as well.
the best treat was jim himself, of course, who reigned over the evening in a checkered apron with his name patchworked on it. he ate along with the rest of us, and graciously obliged when i asked for a photo with him, asking, "clothes on, or off?".
when we left, we each had a slightly shocking, but hilarious anecdote from the evening. a night well spent. jim asked me to come back and cook one sunday. i'm already planning my menu and how to cook in summer camp proportions.
(after reading this on thank you, ok, i put dinner at jim's on my list of things to do. which i think some people refer to as a bucket list, but those two words together give me the heebies).
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