My Dinner with Ruth @lesliekarst

 LUCY BURDETTE: When Ruth Bader Ginsburg died last week, I thought instantly of my friend Leslie Karst. I remembered that she knew RBG and has written a memoir about cooking dinner for the Ginsburgs. (I've read it, it's excellent, and I hope we'll see it out in the world soon!) Leslie agreed graciously to write a post about this for us.

LESLIE KARST: History will remember Ruth Bader Ginsburg for many things, including her tireless and passionate work with the ACLU as an advocate for women’s rights, her thirteen years on the U.S. Court of Appeals for the DC Circuit, her twenty-seven years as justice of the U.S. Supreme Court, and, recently, her rock-star status as the “Notorious R.B.G.,” inspiring “I dissent!” tattoos and jewelry in the shape of her famous lace collars. 

But to me, she was also a family friend.

RBG and me

My father and “Ruth,” as he always referred to her, became close back in the 1960s, when he was teaching at the Ohio State Law School and she was teaching at Rutgers and later at Columbia. They had both been involved in comparative law—Dad with Latin American land reform issues, and Ruth with Swedish civil procedure. (Yes, you read that right: Did you know that as a young lawyer, RBG learned Swedish and then helped translate the Swedish Code of Civil Procedure into English?)

The two stayed in touch over the years, and I grew up hearing stories about Ruth, as she and my father both moved on from comparative law to civil rights as their areas of study and advocacy—and she, eventually, on to the federal judiciary.

And then came the chance of a lifetime. Dad told me he’d invited Ruth to come speak at the UCLA Law School, where he now taught, and she had accepted. Only half-serious, I suggested that I come down to Los Angeles and cook dinner for Ruth and her husband Marty at my parents’ house. 

I’d expected Dad to merely laugh, in that “ha-ha, that’s a ridiculous notion” kind of way, but instead he cocked his head and looked at me, then said quite seriously, “That sounds like a great idea.” 

What had I gotten myself into?

I spent the next nine months planning and fretting, as I worked out the menu for a Supreme Court justice and her world-renowned tax law professor husband—both of whom I knew to be devout foodies. 

And when the evening finally arrived, I sat in my parents living room shaking in my boots. 

But I needn’t have worried. Ruth—though taciturn and serious, as was her wont—was absolutely lovely. And even more so as the evening wore on and the six of us (my parents; the Ginsburgs; my wife, Robin; and me) consumed all six of the bottles of wine I’d purchased for the dinner. 

Ruth, my dad, and me

And Marty was as charming as could be, enthusiastically digging into the food I’d prepared while regaling the table with hilarious stories—some regarding his wife, who simply smiled and nodded in response. Here are a few tidbits we learned that evening:

Ruth would routinely consume fourteen cups of coffee a day.

She once got her car stuck atop a bollard which had risen up as she tried to enter the DC Circuit Court parking lot after another car without waiting her turn.

The purse she carried (at least that night) was very heavy—weighing at least five pounds.

I’ve written a memoir of my experience planning, cooking, and attending the dinner—tentatively entitled Cooking for Ruth—which I hope will be published some time soon. But in the meantime, here’s a peek at the menu I served:

Seared Sea Scallop with Ginger-Lime Cream Sauce

Roasted Butternut Squash Soup with Brown Butter

Garnished with Crème Fraîche, Chopped Walnuts, and Walnut Oil

Baby Spinach Salad with Blood Orange, Red Onion, Dried Cranberries, 

Pine Nuts, Gorgonzola Cheese, and Dijon Vinaigrette Dressing

Blackened Ahi Coated in a Dry-Rub of Spices and Black Sesame Seeds

Served with Wasabi Mashed Potatoes and Snow Peas

A Selection of Pastries from Amandine Patisserie in Los Angeles

Robin and I saw Ruth several times after the big dinner. Whenever we were in Washington, DC, she’d invite us to the Supreme Court, and after watching the day’s arguments we’d chat with the justice in her chambers. (My attendance at Malice Domestic was twice the occasion for such visits with Ruth.)

RBG bobblehead in her chambers

The last contact I had with Ruth was last summer, to let her know that my father had passed away. She recorded a beautiful testimonial for his memorial service at the UCLA Law School, which you can watch here:  

I will miss you Ruth. Thank you for dedicating your own life to bettering ours. 

About Leslie:

The daughter of a law professor and a potter, Leslie Karst learned early, during family dinner conversations, the value of both careful analysis and the arts—ideal ingredients for a mystery story. Putting this early education to good use, she now writes the Sally Solari Mysteries (Dying for a Taste, A Measure of Murder, Death al Fresco, Murder from Scratch), a culinary series set in Santa Cruz, California. An ex-lawyer like her sleuth, Leslie also has degrees in English literature and the culinary arts. 

Visit Leslie at lesliekarstauthor.com 

Leslie blogs at chicksonthecase.com and mysteryloverskitchen.com 

About Murder from Scratch:

Sally’s life is already plenty complicated, what with running the popular and bustling Gauguin and dealing with irate cooks, scheduling headaches, and other staffing issues. So when her dad convinces her to take in a blind relative, Evelyn, whose mother has just died of a drug overdose, she’s none too happy. Sally’s cousin, however, turns out to be not only highly competent, but also lots of fun. And she’s a terrific cook, to boot—taught at an early age by her chef mom, Jackie. 

When moved objects around her house cause Evelyn to suspect that Jackie’s death was not the accident or suicide the police believe it to have been, she and Sally decide to investigate on their own. And Sally soon learns that Evelyn’s blindness makes her more attuned to her other senses, allowing her to discover clues that Sally would easily have missed. The cousins’ sleuthing takes them into the world of pop-up and Southeast Asian restaurants, macho commercial kitchens, and the cut-throat competitiveness that can flame up between chefs—especially when stolen recipes are at stake. 

“Karst seasons her writing with an accurate insider’s view of restaurant operation, as well as a tenderness in the way she treats family, death and Sally’s reactions to Evelyn’s blindness.”

Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine