I really don’t mind entertaining. Really, I don’t. Actually there are many things about entertaining that I do enjoy like playing music a little too loud, dancing, enjoying a signature drink, and laughing. Notice I didn’t say anything about making food. I like the kind of entertaining where I can be a guest at my own party. I am the daughter of Joyce, after all.
It’s Dinner Club that is my real problem—it just frosts my cake. I love attending Dinner Club, but I don’t particularly enjoy hosting because it’s too much work. Did I mention that Joyce is my mother?
Dinner Club happens four times a year. I get to sit back and enjoy three delicious meals as the guest and once a year it is hell on wheels. The reason it’s hell is because when you host you do it all: appetizers, soup or salad, entrée plus all the trimmings, and dessert. And the other three wenches in the group won’t hear of doing it any other way. I’d love an easier format and I’ve tried my best to convince those nasties to change it up. But they won’t budge. Won’t. Budge.
So, yes, it’s my turn this time. Yesterday I spent three hours trying to find a tart pan. All the French stores like Tar-zhay and Wal-mare were sold out. Then I decided I didn’t like the footstool next to a chair in my kitchen so I returned it. Later I got home and decided it didn’t look right without the footstool, plus, Joyce told me she loved that footstool. So I drove back and re-bought it. Then I couldn’t find Fage Greek yogurt . . .
How can two stores be sold out of authentic Greek yogurt? I also bought the wrong kind of butter. Did I mention that I lost my list?
Today I sat in front of three cookbooks and stared at them. Does that ever happen to you? I enjoy looking at all the pretty pictures and reading about how to make things, I just don’t really want to take action on any of it. I get sort of comatose-like when I page through cookbooks. I sit there turning page after page after page looking for something that might trip my trigger . . . something that might make the wenches lick their chops and say, “Yum, yum.”
This time, just like all the other times, the inspirations just weren’t coming to me so I decided to enjoy a chocolate milkshake and some guacamole. Maybe the guac could inspire me. It always used to when I was in my twenties.
So, here’s the menu. Read it and weep. Believe me, I will be:
Signature drink: Send in your ideas NOW
Appetizers: Italian nachos, Fancy Three Cheese Dip, To Be Determined Mystery Item
Salad: Pear/Apple/Dried Cherry/Swiss Cheese/Cashew — light vinaigrette
Entrée: Maine Seafood Bake, Barefoot Contessa Baked Potatoes, Stir-Fried Spicy Carrots with Peanuts
Dessert: White Chocolate Fruit Tart made in a cardboard box because I couldn’t find a tart pan
Joyce and I do not have a Julia Child bone in our bodies. And that’s okay because we’re fun. And fun is better than delicious any day. Although delicious is okay. Delicious is excellent when it’s at someone else’s house.