We have managed to get an invitation the past three years or so, even though we don’t live on the block. The yearly Sackett St. “International Dinner”, held every September on the block between Smith and Hoyt Sts, in Brooklyn. The whole block gets shut down, tables are dragged out into the middle of the street and food placed on a large communal table set up in the middle of the block. The ribs went quick, there was some wonderful Chinese noodles, our friend Liz, who always invites us, made a killer eggplant dish. I’m always amazed at which the ease, or at least the what looks to me like ease, that Liz can whip up, put together, or in any another sense create something from ingredients that are in her kitchen and recipes that seem to just flow out of her mind.
The light was fading, the wine was flowing and bellies were being filled, all to the cacophony of music, kids riding various wheeled objects, a baby crying and talk from the half dozen tables of people, well, neighbors actually, sitting at the half dozen tables along the block. Honestly, the food is never bad, and often skews to very, very good.
My dish was a simple pasta with a sauce made from three different kinds of tomatoes I had gathered out local farmers market. Some Plum, beefsteak and red and yellow cherry tomatoes. I used a little more olive oil than usual, hoping to make it a little lighter than a sauce that is cooked way down, and tossed three cloves of crushed garlic in the pan to slightly brown before putting in the tomatoes and softened some small yellow onions. I wanted to try and keep the freshness of the tomatoes, that with the coming of mid-September, will soon be gone, gone, gone. So I resisted cooking down the tomatoes to long and left the cherry tomatoes to put in last, about half way through the cooking. I threw some fresh basil on top, put it in a big bowl, and walked up to the next block to see what Liz was making. With-in twenty minutes we were eating al-fresco, in the middle of the street, a soft breeze, and with friends and just met neighbors. There is a reason I live in Brooklyn.
My dish was a simple pasta with a sauce made from three different kinds of tomatoes I had gathered out local farmers market. Some Plum, beefsteak and red and yellow cherry tomatoes. I used a little more olive oil than usual, hoping to make it a little lighter than a sauce that is cooked way down, and tossed three cloves of crushed garlic in the pan to slightly brown before putting in the tomatoes and softened some small yellow onions. I wanted to try and keep the freshness of the tomatoes, that with the coming of mid-September, will soon be gone, gone, gone. So I resisted cooking down the tomatoes to long and left the cherry tomatoes to put in last, about half way through the cooking. I threw some fresh basil on top, put it in a big bowl, and walked up to the next block to see what Liz was making. With-in twenty minutes we were eating al-fresco, in the middle of the street, a soft breeze, and with friends and just met neighbors. There is a reason I live in Brooklyn. 
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