The most popular events at Hillside House were not the parties, the whist tournament, or even the cookouts . . .they were the international dinners. Every few months, the Council Board would post the date and cuisine for the next dinner and a sign up sheet for volunteers. I think it may have been the fact that we were commuters and were used to home cooking that we recognized the power that food has in bringing people together. But Hillside House members from Freshman to Seniors to Alumni, from the ultra-studious to the Whist Players, came together on these occasions to sign up with their favorite food, or to help others make theirs. It could be elaborate like manicotti for the Italian dinner or simply a bag of tortilla chips for the Mexican dinner. But whichever dinner it was, (Italian, Mexican, Chinese, Thanksgiving or later Greek) everyone was always willing and happy to participate.
The day of the dinner, probably around 4 o'clock, everyone would make their way back to Hillside House after classes, if they weren't already there. Tables would be moved together, end to end, spanning the length of house. Every chair, couch and cushion from every floor would be brought down and placed around the tables. A picture from Martha Stewart's "Living", it was not - but knowing that each chair would soon be occupied made all the difference. The TV would be off, decks of cards and cribbage boards left in the alcove, and books and backpacks shoved in a corner somewhere. Everyone (or as many as could fit) would be in the kitchen dicing, stirring or "testing" to make sure everything met Hillside standards. The sounds and smells would be contagious. . .
Once the dinner was ready, everyone would grab a plate and make his or her way to the food line. A jug of wine (usually a $2 gallon jug from Atlas Liquors!) would be passed around. One of the contributing factors of the success of these dinners was the fact that Hillside House was so culturally and ethnically diverse. Someone always cooked a sauce from their Italian grandmother's kitchen, or brought in a special recipe from their parent's Asian Restaurant. And every dish seemed to have a story that went along with it - be it from the "old country" or from Hillside dinners past.
On that note, a favorite Italian saying from my mom . . .