Community Around the Table: Any Excuse

It has been just fifteen months since I arrived back in Perth, and one of the things I have missed most is having my girlfriends gathered around my table. We are all in our late fifties now, friends from school and university days, women whose lives have taken very different paths yet still orbit around shared laughter, a good story, and the simple pleasure of food and conversation.

Our book club has become a touchstone for all of that. Each month we meet to talk about a book, though of course the conversation usually meanders to family, memories, what is cooking in the kitchen, and life as it keeps rolling on.

This month, I wanted to do something special.

Rather than our usual outing for dinner and wine, I invited everyone to my home. I asked them to come empty-handed, no salads, no desserts, no bottles of wine. Instead, I suggested that if they would normally spend money on a meal out, they might like to put it towards a digital purchase for the St Bart’s Christmas Hamper Appeal. These hampers bring comfort and dignity to people who have experienced homelessness or hardship, and I loved the idea that our shared evening could ripple out into something bigger than ourselves.

I did not want to make it a fundraising night. These are my friends, not donors. I simply wanted to treat them, to create an evening of connection, good food, and a small gesture of giving.

Spring in the Kitchen

Spring has finally settled in, and I can feel it in the produce. The markets are brimming with asparagus, fat and thin, like dancers in a chorus line, and broccolini so slender it looks delicate enough to wear a tutu of tiny yellow flowers.

On Sunday, I began the quiet ritual I love before a dinner. I trimmed the stalks and plunged them into iced water, juiced the lemons I found on the communal tree in our complex, sliced shallots and let them steep in vinegar. I toasted nuts and seeds, almonds, pistachios, fennel, and tucked them away in little jars. Parsley and dill were washed, dried, and sealed in paper towels.

Sunday is my calm-before-the-storm day, when I lay the table early and polish glasses just because it feels good to do so. Nothing matches anymore, a reflection of post-divorce life, and I am perfectly fine with that. My table is as real as the life around it: mismatched, heartfelt, and filled with intention.

The Feast

The night of book club arrived, and with it, my guests, tumbling through the door with hugs, chatter, and that familiar warmth of women who have known each other across decades.

The book of the month was Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, a story of friendship and creation that somehow echoed the themes unfolding right there in my dining room.

Dinner began with cubes of tuna, glistening with fresh lemon juice, scattered with chopped pistachios and dill, then finished with a drizzle of burnt butter infused with fennel seeds. A little nod to Ottolenghi’s Simple, one of my favourite inspirations.

For the main course, I served barramundi baked in a slow-cooked tomato and anchovy sauce. It came to the table alongside pan-seared asparagus with almonds and capers, and oven-roasted broccolini tossed in olive oil, sea salt, and a dusting of smoked paprika and citrus zest.

One of my friends is coeliac and pescatarian, so the entire menu was naturally gluten-free, no fuss, no fanfare, just food made for everyone to enjoy.

Dessert was a flourless chocolate cake, baked the night before and warmed gently in the oven while we lingered over mains. I served it with macerated cherries and a dollop of cream, rich, fragrant, and deeply satisfying.

Full Hearts and Full Hampers

By the end of the evening, conversation had flowed like the wine. We laughed about the book, reminisced about old times, and shared thoughts on everything from friendship to the small joys that make life feel full.

Together, through our little act of collective generosity, thirty-seven hampers were purchased online for St Bart’s. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, a group of women who have known each other forever, coming together to share a meal, a story, and a simple act of kindness.

I have always believed food tastes best when it is made for others. This night reminded me that community is not built in grand gestures. It is built around the table, one meal, one conversation, one connection at a time.

Next on the Menu

This story will also be part of my upcoming chat with Doug on Sonshine FM's Table Talk next Thursday, where we will chat food, friendship, and the beauty of coming together for good.

Because in the end, any excuse will do, as long as it brings people around the table.