Last week, I was going to make B.L.T.’s and Camper’s Potato Salad. (If you haven’t read that post, it’s canned potato slices, drained and roughly chopped, ranch dressing and spices.) Where on earth is my can opener? It’s not in the drawer where it lives?…

Oh, yeah, Michael took it to work to open his knock-off Spaghetti-O’s. Where is the electric one? In the storage closet, so buried I’d need a search team to find it, even if I knew which box it was in. Don’t we have an army can opener somewhere?

I thought, “Maybe I should ask the new college kids across the hall if I can borrow their can opener.” After 30 minutes of opening and closing cupboards, I gave up and made tricked out mac and cheese instead. (Use the boxed stuff but add shredded cheese, sour cream, cream cheese, and pepper.)

The next night, right after I got home from work, there was a knock on the door. It was the two college kids. “Can we ask a really big favor?” Um, okay, what? “We want to make lasagna and we don’t have anything big enough.” Sure, no problem and I bring them a 8×11 glass casserole dish. “Wow, thank you so much.” I told them about my lack of a can opener the night before and they say, “Oh, yeah, anytime you need anything, just ask.”

It was a “borrow a cup of sugar from the neighbor” moment. That’s something I’ve never experienced in 11 years of apartment living. (Although I have experienced a “sit on the stoop and share our banana schnapps” moment.)

Around two hours later, another knock. Our neighbors bearing a vintage Melmac plate (!) with a big, hot piece of vegetarian lasagna on it “big enough for both of you”. They thanked me again for the casserole dish, I thanked them for dinner.

Last night they returned the casserole with 4 pieces of baklava for “dessert”. This was so thoughtful and sweet, I knew I wanted to reciprocate.

Tonight, when I got home from work, I made homemade hummus, with fresh, hot parantha (an Indian fry bread somewhere between pita and croissant). I put the hummus in a little margarine tub, that coordinated with the Melmac plate I was returning, and quartered up the parantha.

I knocked on the neighbor’s door and told him what I’d brought. He clasped his hand to his mouth in surprise. I told him to enjoy and went back to my apartment happier than I’d been all day.

In our busy modern world, where we all ignore one another, when we’re not busy being rude, it’s refreshing to share some food, borrow a dish and remember that there are still some decent people out there.

Update: The nice college kids came to the door again to “borrow” some curry powder. Alas, they did not share their curry. But there was a knock on the door last week and one of the nice boys said they had moved out and he was just cleaning up. I said I was sad to see them leave as they were nice, quiet and friendly. He reciprocated the sentiments. He said he had some food he didn’t want to take back to Canada with him and would we like to have it? I thanked him profusely and ducked back into the apartment for some cupcakes as a final thank you. We received 2 pounds of frozen fish, a box of graham cracker crumbs, a box of baking soda, a big can of refried beans, and a bag of frozen okra (I threw that away due to allergy). I was genuinely touched and surprised, but grateful and pleased. Can I say it? Was the generosity due to being a Canadian and not an American? I’ve never experienced this with my other neighbors. I’ll miss you, Matt.

This post brought to you by:

Vegetarian Cooking Made Easy – A Step By Step Guide To A Vegetarian Lifestyle.